u, 


;,«• 


LIBIA 


TALE  OF  THE  SECOND  CENTUI^Y, 


TRANSLATED  FROM  THE  GERMAN 
OF 

HERRMAN    GEIGER    OF    MUNICH. 


PHILADELPHIA: 
EUGENE     CUMMISKEY,    PUBLISHER, 

1037    CHESTNUT    STREET, 
1867. 


FT 


INTRODUCTION. 


How  beautiful  to  behold  the  silent  dawn  of  morning, 
lighting  up  the  solitary  summits  of  the  Glsetchers! 
Height  after  height  begins  to  wear  the  first  beams  of  the 
rising  sun.  While  the  bases  of  these  mighty  mountains 
are  hidden  from  the. view  by  a  thick  veil  of  blue  mist, 
naught  appears  but  their  lofty  heads  peeping,  as  it  were, 
from  amongst  the  clouds.  A  similar  spectacle  discloses 
itself  to  the  eye  of  faith,  when  it  casts  a  glance  into  the 
golden  morning  of  Christianity,  and  discovers  those  gi- 
gantic heads  surrounded  by  the  brilliancy  of  the  sun  of 
Justice.  An  invigorating  air  wafts  across  from  them  to 
us,  upon  our  remote  point  of  view;  we  are  astonished  at 
the  characters,  firm  as  a  rock,  which  raised  them  above 
their  contemporaries,  and  imagine  we  hear  the  blood 
gushing  from  their  hearts,  and  falling  into  the  stream  of 
the  general  martyrdom.  This  stream  flowed  on  for  three 
hundred  years,  and  formed  the  boundaries  between  the 
heathen  and  the  Christian  world.  Such  a  look  as  this 
did  the  writer  of  these  pages  cast  into  that  golden  age. 


vi  INTRODUCTION. 

But  as  the  succession  of  these  great  men  stretches  out 
like  a  lengthened  chain  of  precious  gems,  he  drew  for 
his  purpose  a  more  confined  perspective,  and  chose  that 
period  in  which  the  Emperor  Marcus  Aurelius  wielded 
the  sceptre.  This  period  embraces  about  twenty  years, — 
from  A.  D.  161  to  180 :  the  most  renowned  heroes  of  the 
Faith,  which  occur  in  this  time,  are  St.  Polycarp  of 
Smyrna,  the  Philosopher  Justin  of  Rome,  and  the 
Apostle  of  the  south  of  Gaul,  Bishop  Pothinus. 

The  martyrologies  that  mention  these  men,  are,  above 
all  others  that  have  come  under  our  notice,  the  most  to 
be  relied  on.  The  untiring  Irenseus  is  a  connecting  link 
between  the  Eastern  and  Western  Churches.  Pope  Soter 
in  Rome,  Dionysius  of  Corinth,  and  the  learned  Athena- 
goras,  who,  from  a  follower  of  the  Grecian  philosophy, 
became  a  disciple  of  Christ,  lived  also  in  the  time  of 
Marcus  Aurelius.  But  in  order  to  bring  these  professors 
of  the  Faith,  who  with  respect  to  place  are  so  widely 
separated  from  each  other,  into  the  same  compass,  it  re- 
quires the  personality  of  one  whose  trials  were  contempo- 
rary with  the  above-mentioned  men,  like  the  veil  of  mist 
that  obscures  the  depths  of  the  valley,  and  scatters  itself 
round  the  foot  of  the  mountain.  This  person  is  Lydia, 
an  Eastern  slave.  Some  difficulty  occurred  at  the  ques- 
tion, in  which  of  the  numerous  cities  of  the  then  king- 
dom of  the  world  the  connecting  points  of  the  tale 
should  lie. 


INTRODUCTION.  vii 

Rome,  the  chief  city  of  the  immeasurable  empire, 
would  have  been,  above  all  others,'  the  one  most  suited, 
and  it  dares  not  be  forgotten.  But  the  seat  of  refinement 
and  the  asylum  of  worldly  wisdom  were  to  be  found,  at 
that  time,  neither  in  Rome  nor  in  Italy,  but  in  that  once 
great  city  of  Greece,  Athens. 

In  the  time  of  the  Anthonys,  the  imperial  court  at 
Rome  so  highly  appreciated  the  Hellenish  refinement, 
that  the  best  teachers  were  called  from  Greece  to  instruct 
the  heirs  to  the  throne,  and  the  higher  schools.  Every- 
thing that  laid  claim  to  refinement  was  from  Greece,  just 
as  with  us  the  French  language  has  become  the  mother- 
tongue  of  high  life.  Marcus  Aurelius  was  himself  a  dis- 
ciple of  the  Grecian  school  of  philosophy,  and  wrote  his 
"Maxims"  in  Greek.  Herodes,  Atticus,  Demonax, 
Athenagoras,  Aristides,  Lucien,  Pausanias,  and  other 
illustrious  writers,  we  find  in  Athens  at  this  time.  For 
the  propagation  of  Christianity,  Greece  was  looked  upon 
with  as  much  importance  as  Italy:  in  the  latter,  politics 
had  their  seat,  in  the  former,  spiritual  power;  and  for 
this  reason,  the  princes  of  the  apostles  chose  both  these 
countries  for  their  missionary  labors.  The  courageous 
Peter  ventured  to  remain  in  the  imperial  city,  but  the 
learned  Paul  journeyed  to  Greece.  Therefore  is  Athens 
chosen  as  the  scene  of  the  incidents. 

The  Hellenish  worship  may  excite  some  interest,  as  it 


viii  INTRODUCTION. 

explains  itself  in  a  heathen  sense.  There  is  a  great  chasm 
between  Roman  and  Grecian  paganism,  and  incomparably 
nobler  were  the  religious  views  of  the  new  Platonic 
schools  than  the  coarse  faith  of  the  Romans.  The  re- 
searches of  the  Greek  sages  were  not  fruitless ;  various  as 
were  their  systems,  they  were  at  least  all  united  in  the 
same  opinion,  that  the  perception  which  the  people  of  the 
earth  then  had  of  the  Divinity,  was  unworthy  of  it.  IL 
addition  to  this,  the  Grecian  Mysteries,  which  could  be 
traced  as  far  back  as  to  the  primitive  history  of  the 
people,  preserved  their  ancient  faith;  and  perhaps  after 
this,  it  was  the  Eleusian  mysteries  that  saved  those  rem- 
nants of  past  knowledge  which  may  be  looked  upon  with 
justice  as  a  divine  revelation.  But  apart  from  those  most 
important  mysteries,  into  which  almost  all  those  who  had 
any  pretensions  to  refinement  were  initiated,  there  flowed 
in  the  principal  Greek  towns  another  source,  which  as- 
sisted in  altering  the  ideas  of  inferior  paganism,  and  in 
showing  in  purity  the  image  of  the  Divinity.  There 
were  not  only  communities  of  Jews  at  that  time  in  Delos, 
Kos,  Milet,  and  other  islands,  but  their  religion  was 
practised  in  the  great  Corinth  also ;  and  St.  Paul  found 
a  synagogue  even  in  Athens.*  Who  would  therefore 
doubt,  that  just  the  most  renowned  Grecian  thinkers  and 
teachers  of  the  people  have  not  drawn  from  this  source  ? 

*  Acts  of  the  Apostles,  xvii.  17. 


INTRODUCTION.  ix 

All  this  philosophy  then,  this  Judaism,  and  those 
mysteries,  had  worked  together,  in  cutting  off,  piece  by 
piece,  this  Anaconda  of  paganism,  which  bound  up  the 
Roman  world,  until  that  "Sun-clad  Woman"  stepped 
forth  from  the  house  of  David,  and  for  ever  crushed  the 
serpent's  head. 

The  most  remarkable  events  of  Marcus  Aurelius'  time 
have  not  been  passed  over,  particularly  the  war  against 
the  people  of  the  Danube,  which  for  each  descendant  of 
the  ancient  Germans  is  of  no  small  importance,  and  is 
circumstantially  described ;  whereby  much  of  their  ancient 
manners  and  customs,  according  to  Tacitus,  have  been 
made  known  to  us. 

It  is  now  some  years  since  Lydia  began  to  tread  the 
insecure  path  of  publicity.  In  her  wanderings  she  has 
been  nowhere  received  with  coldness;  in  many  places 
greeted  most  warmly,  and  in  all,  treated  with  that  con- 
sideration due  to  her  sex. 

Unhappy,  persecuted  Poland  gladly  availed  herself  of 
her  consoling  presence,  and  looked  upon  her  as  a  suffer- 
ing sister  in  the  Faith.  The  maid,  the  wife,  the  mother, 
and  the  widow,  have  been  alike  instructed  by  her  good 
example.  The  desolate  and  afflicted  have  found  in  her 
all  they  could  desire ;  for  while  her  generous  hand  dis- 
pensed a  temporal  blessing,  it  was  ever  accompanied  by 
a  word  of  consolation  and  advice. 


PREFACE 

TO    THE    AMEEIOAN    EDITION. 


IN  this  age  of  frivolous  romance  or  indistinct  piety,  it 
is  refreshing  to  fall  upon  a  work  filled  with  sound  princi- 
ples and  pleasurable  development  as  the  present  volume. 

Lydia,  in  her  historico-religious  character,  is  of  the  class 
and  family  of  Fabiola  and  Calista ;  and  though  a  younger, 
is  not  an  unworthy  or  unseemly  sister. 

A  volume  so  interesting  and  instructive  as  that  now 
presented  to  the  American  reader,  is  peculiarly  beneficial : 
for  it  must  be  admitted,  though  numerous  and  influential 
as  may  be  the  members  of  the  Catholic  Church,  that  there 
still  exists  a  prejudice  and  pressure  from  without  that  in 
no  small  degree  prevents  the  vigor  and  growth  of  sound 
Christian  principles.  The  temporal  prosperity  of  the 
country,  and  the  concomitant  desire  of  appearing  well  be- 
fore the  people,  have  introduced  a  spirit  of  extravagance 
and  forgetfulness  by  no  means  favorable  to  religion. 

(M) 


xii     PREFACE  TO   THE  AMERICAN  EDITION. 

The  blamelessness  of  the  lives,  and  the  acknowledged 
virtues  of  the  early  Christians,  proved  insufficient  to  pro- 
tect them  against  the  strong  prejudice  of  a  jealous  and 
unbelieving  majority:  and  in  the  nineteenth,  as  in  the 
second  century  of  the  Church,  do  we  find,  in  too  many 
instances,  a  lack  of  that  firmness  and  moral  courage  which 
we  so  admire,  but  do  not  always  practise. 

It  would  sound  strangely,  perhaps,  to  compare  the  un- 
just prejudices  of  the  Grecian  pagan  of  the  second  century 
with  the  misrepresentations  of  the  nineteenth  in  our  own 
midst;  but  this  however  may  be  understood,  that  now,  as 
then,  it  requires  the  patience  and  charity  of  Lydia  to  con- 
quer the  pride  and  worldly-mindedness  of  Metella. 

In  the  hope,  then,  of  strengthening  the  faith,  whilst  it 
sustains  the  hope  of  the  children  of  the  Church,  in  their 
daily  conflict  with  the  outward  world,  this  volume  ia 
placed  in  the  hands  of  the  American  reader, — a  reprint 
of  the  London  edition  of  the  present  year. 

DECEHBEB,  1866. 


CHAPTER  I.  PA01 

THE  YOUTHFUL  CAPTIVE     .,>>..        .        .        .17 

CHAPTER  II. 
THE  EARTHQUAKE      ....        .        .        .        .      30 

CHAPTER  III. 
METELLA     ....  ....      42 

CHAPTER  IV. 

THE  TIROCINIUM       .IvX  .*vi  L'>A. ;  >        •        .        .      58 

CHAPTER  V. 
THE  HAIR  BODKIN     .     -:.:    ;'i;       .        ...      68 

CHAPTER  VI. 
THE  SACRIFICES  IN  THE  TEMPLE  OF  JUPITER     .        .      79 

CHAPTER  VII. 

CHARACTERISTIC  SKETCHES  OF  THE  SLAVES  AND  THEIR 
MODE  OF  LIFE     ....        .;./.;     .        .      87 

CHAPTER  VIII. 
JUSTIN'S  APOLOGIA     ........;«.     .        .        .      95 

xiii 


xiv  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  IX.  FAam 

THE  SILVER  MIEEOE          ......    104 

CHAPTER  X. 

NEWS  FEOM   THE  SEAT  OF 


CHAPTER  XI. 
ATHENAGOEAS     .       .        *       . 

CHAPTER  XII. 
THE  COUNTEY  SEAT  AT  ELEUSIS        .... 

CHAPTER  XIII. 

THE   POTTEE  AND  HIS  CHILD         ..... 

CHAPTER  XIV. 

SAD  INTELLIGENCE    ',;,    ..,...-       .        .       . 

CHAPTER  XV. 

DlONYSIUS  OF  COEINTH          .  . 

CHAPTER  XVI. 
THE  CONVEESION        ...... 

CHAPTER  XVII. 
MARCUS  AUEELIUS'  CONQUEST  OF  THE  MAECOMANNI      188 

CHAPTER  XVIII. 
LYDIA'S  DEPAETUEE    .......    195 

CHAPTER  XIX. 
THE  TEIUMPHAL  PEOCESSION      .        .        .        .  .      .    207 

.CHAPTER  XX. 
LYDIA  IN  SEAECH  OF  HEE  MOTHEE  .  216 


CONTENTS.  xv 

CHAPTER  XXI.  9UU 

SOLITUDE  IN  HOLY  PLACES        .  .-       .        .    228 

CHAPTEE  XXII. 

IBEN2EUS       .  235 

CHAPTER  XXIII. 
THE  INVALID 246 

CHAPTER  XXIV. 
THE  RETUEN 252 

"  CHAPTER  XXV. 
THE  CONCLUSION  268 


LYDIA. 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE    YOUTHFUL    CAPTIVE. 
A.D.  165. 

HE  confused  cries  and  clamors  of  a  throng- 
ing  multitude  fill  the  slave  market  of 
ancient  Smyrna.     In  one  part  an  over- 
seer screams  himself  hoarse  upon  the  supe- 


rior qualities  of  his  merchandise,  whilst  an- 
other of  his  caste  beats  poor  children  most 
unmercifully,  and  the  sobs  and  winnings  of 
these  unhappy  ones  mingle  with  the  imprecations  of 
their  castigator. 

Each  one  set  up  for  sale,  has  a  placard  suspended 
from  his  neck,  on  which  all  his  qualities  afe  written. 
On  many  of  these  can  be  seen  the  words,  "  Calligraphos  " 
or  "  Pedagogos,"  because  the  wearer  possesses  the  neces- 
sary acquirements  for  either  a  Tutor  or  a  Teacher.  The 
upper  end  of  the  market  is  occupied  chiefly  by  Africans, 
2*  B  (17) 


18  THE   YOUTHFUL    CAPTIVE 

from  burning  Lybia,  with  dark  skin  and  woolly  hair ; 
deplorable  creatures !  their  ears  pierced,  and  their  feet 
chalked,  a  sign  that  they  have  crossed  the  sea.  Close 
to  these,  cooped  up  in  laths  and  cords,  are  young  ne- 
gresses,  from  the  interior  of  Ethiopia,  black  as  ebony. 
They  seat  themselves  on  a  checkered  carpet,  crouching 
closely  and  anxiously  together.  Bread,  fruit,  and  wine 
are  placed  before  them,  but  few  partake  thereof,  as  they 
were  told  that  those  good  things  are  merely  given  them 
for  a  time,  to  make  them  robust,  that  they  may  afford 
the  gormandizing  Romans  a  dainty  meal.  At  the  lower 
end,  the  eye  falls  upon  entire  herds  of  white  slaves,  from 
every  known  country  under  the  sun.  Amongst  these 
are  the  emaciated  Tsaurians,  formerly  pirates  in  the 
Mediterranean,  looking  most  piteously.  In  striking 
contrast  stands  the  athletic  Cappadocian,  proud  of  his 
race  and  stature ;  frivolous  and  faithless,  it  is  true,  but,  as 
his  placard  jestingly  remarks,  as  the  bearer  of  a  litter, 
most  useful,  and  as  well  beloved  as  the  horses  of  his 
country.  In  the  midst  of  this  multitude  of  slaves,  of 
Greeks  richly  apparelled,  and  of  Romans  eager  for  pur- 
chase, might  be  seen  passing  on,  a  modestly  attired 
female,  of  noble  bearing,  but  whose  dress,  that  of  a 
widow,  bespeaks  her  of  the  middle  class.  Her  scruti- 
nizing gaze  lingers  fong  upon  the  youthful  forms  of  the 
captive  Christians, — but  she  finds  not  whom  she  seeks, 
and  wanders  on  by  the  nearest- way  to  the  public  prisons. 
"Shall  I  rejoice,  or  shall  I  complain/'  sighed  the  afflicted 
one,  "  that  I  found  her  not  amongst  them,  or  whether, 
after  six  months,  is  she  still  in  prison,  or  have  they 
reserved  her  for  the  coming  festival?"  "Merciful  God! 


THE    YOUTHFUL    CAPTIVE.  19 

suffer  not  my  child  to  be  torn  to  pieces  by  wild  beasts, 
amidst  the  jeers  and  scoffs  of  an  applauding  multitude ! " 
Agonized  with  such  thoughts,  Charitana  reached  the 
gates  of  the  prison,  knocked  with  trembling  hand,  and 
craved  admittance.  She  informed  the  jailer,  that  she 
was  in  search  of  a  daughter,  named  Seraphica,  who, 
immediately  after  the  execution  of  Polycarp,  had  been 
cast  into  prison ;  and  that  for  several  months  she  had 
heard  nothing  of  her  fate. 

"Seraphica!  —  the  daughter  of  a  purple-dye  mer- 
chant?" growled  the  jailer,  — -  "  and  one  of  the  Christian 
Eeligion,  and  but  seventeen  years  old  ?  Yes,  you  can 
see  her  in  a  few  days :  She  will  then  celebrate  her 
wedding  on  the  feast  of  Mercury,  with  a  young  and 
beautiful  panther ;  the  most  cheerful  Ethiopian  that 
can  be  found." 

Pale  as  marble  and  trembling  with  horror,  Charitana 
stood  before  the  savage  jailer,  from  whose  scornful  lips 
she  had  just  heard  the  probable  fate  of  her  only  child. 

"I  see  you  have  some  fruit,"  continued  he;  "I'll  place 
it  before  her  at  the  feast  already  mentioned." 

"  Unfeeling  man,  you  mock  me!  Has  icy  death  never 
torn  from  you  a  beloved  child  ?  Have  you  never  stood 
by  the  death-bed  of  one  dear  to  you  ?  If  not,  you  can 
never  understand  what  I  now  suffer.  Oh !  I  conjure 
you  to  grant  me  this  solitary  consolation!  —  Allow  me 
to  speak  to  Seraphica  before  she  leaves  the  prison  for 
the  festival!"  "Where  is  your  purse?"  asked  the 
jailer.  "  If  it  be  well  filled,  matters  can  be  favorably 
managed."  "No,  heartless  man,  gold  and  silver  have 
but  sparingly  fallen  to  my  lot,  but  the  laws  of  Eome, 


20  THE    YOUTHFUL    CAPTIVE. 

which  grant  to  the  condemned  a  feast  before  death,  are 
not  so  severe  as  to  refuse  a  mother  a  last  interview 
with  her  beloved  child. — "Were  I  to  offer  you  the  little 
money  I  possess,  you  would  not  be  contented. — But  I 
remember  now,  I  have  a  treasure — a  great  treasure — one 
I  have  inherited,  and  which  can  be  divided  between  you 
and  me,  without  decreasing.  I  can  give  you  as  much  of 
it  as  your  heart  desires,  as  soon  as  you  grant  my  petition." 

"  Extraordinary  promise,"  replied  he.  "  What  is  the 
value  of  that  treasure  ?  " 

"  Of  more  value  than  this  terrestrial  orb,  even  were 
it  of  Diamond."  The  jailer's  countenance  brightened 
up.  "In  any  case  a  great  exaggeration,"  said  he  to 
himself. — "Still  it  might  be  as  valuable  as  a  diamond." — 
Then  turning  round,  he  seized  upon  his  keys,  and  gave 
Charitana  a  sign  to  follow. 

They  passed  through  long  and  vaulted  corridors, 
where  nothing  broke  the  silence  that  reigned  around, 
save  the  hollow  echoes  of  their  footsteps.  At  length 
they  stood  before  a  low  and  narrow  door  —  unlocked — 
the  bolts  withdrawn — and  Charitana  is  in  the  presence 
of  her  daughter. 

O  happy  moment !— a  sweeter  in  this  place  of  sorrows 
none  had  ever  known !  But  silence !  Yonder  sits  the 
youthful  captive  —  not  suspecting  who  is  near.  Her  right 
arm  is  chained — the  left  supports  her  head,  and  she  is 
in  a  deep  slumber.  "Ah  perhaps,"  murmured  Chari- 
tana in  a  low  voice,  "  thou  already  knowest  what  awaits 
thee  in  a  few  days !  Perhaps  fearful  visions  are  even 
now  passing  before  thy  weary  eyes! — Yet,  no,  those 
features  speak  not  of  fear;  that  countenance  is  as  a 


THE    YOUTHFUL    CAPTIVE.  21 

mirror  reflecting  interior  peace  and  holy  resignation." — 
In  her  fettered  hand,  she  loosely  holds  a  girdle ;  upon 
which  she  had  evidently  been  ruminating ;  and  so  had 
sunk  to  sleep. — She  drops  the  hand,  and  the  girdle  falls 
from  her  listless  fingers.  She  moves  —  smiles — and 
holds  converse  with  herself.  —  "Yes, — yes,  never-to-be- 
forgotten  Polycarp!  —  Not  on  parchment,  but  on  far 
nobler  material  have  I  written  all  thy  words !  — Poly- 
carp  !  shall  we  meet  again  ?  Soon  ? — 0  it  will  be  some 
time  yet !  '  Until  then  let  us  have  hope  ever  before  us,  and 
never  lose  the  pledge  of  our.  righteousness.'1 "  * 

Charitana  having  placed  the  fruit  upon  the  ground, 
stood  immovable  before  her  dreaming  child.  But  as 
soon  as  she  heard  the  words  "  O  it  will  be  some  time 
yet,"  she  could  no  longer  refrain  from  shedding  a  flood 
of  tears. 

At  length,  in  a  subdued  voice,  she  pronounced  her 
daughter's  name,  "  Seraphica !  do  you  know  who  is 
hera?" 

The  young  girl  answered  dreamingly  and  slowly,  as 
though  she  felt  obliged  to  reflect  on  every  word. — 
"  Here  ?  —  Here  are  peace  and  solitude." 

"Seraphica,  thy  mother!"  —  "Mother?  No,  she  has 
fled ! "  and  sighing  heavily,  she  dashes  a  tear  from  her 
pale  cheek,  and  casts  her  half  closed  eyes  on  the  girdle 
at  her  feet.  Suddenly  she  perceives  a  form  before  her, 
she  shudders — and  quick  as  lightning  raises  herself 
from  the  ground,  and  exclaiming,  "God  of  all  good- 
ness!" casts  herself  into  her  mother's  arms.  "Do  I 
dream,  or  art  thou  really  she,  or  art  thou  an  angel  who 

*  These  were  the  words  of  St.  Polycarp  to  the  Philippians. 


22  THE    YOUTHFUL    CAPTIVE. 

•visitest  me?  Wondrous! — through  closed  doors  in 
this  gloomy  dungeon ! " 

"Yes,  dearest  child,  it  is  thy  mother !  Life  without 
thee  seemed  more  painful  than  death  itself.  Six  anxious 
months  have  I  wandered  through  the  mountains,  where 
I  found  true  and  loving  hearts ;  one  alone  was  wanting 
— and  that  was  thine.  But  now  I  will  not  leave  thee 
until  I  know  thy  fate. 

"  Since  that  dreadful  day,  thou  hast  been  ever  present 
to  my  mind.  When  I  heard  that  thou  wast  seen  in  the 
Amphitheatre,  oh  what  anguish  did  I  not  endure! 
Hour  after  hour  passed  on.  My  worst  fears  were  veri- 
fied: I  heard  that  thou  wast  taken  prisoner."  "Yes, 
mother,"  replied  Seraphica,  "though  most  unworthy,  I 
have  been  chosen  to  suffer  imprisonment  and  chains  for 
the  sake  of  my  Redeemer.  It  was  a  dreadful  day,  yet 
one  replete  with  blessings. 

"  O  hadst  thou  seen  our  venerable  and  saintly  Poly- 
carp! — Couldst  thou  but  have  gazed  on  those  features 
of  a  hundred  years,  glowing  with  charity,  peace,  and 
simplicity  I 

"  Many  feared  that  his  great  age  would  have  rendered 
him  unable  to  reach  the  place  of  martyrdom,  with  that 
heroic  fortitude  expected  from  one  who  had  led  a  life  so 
holy.  But  how  groundless  was  that  fear !  O  mother, 
hadst  thou  but  seen  that  saint  in  death ! " 

"Still,  my  child,  I  had  the  happiness  to  meet  our  holy 
Bishop  in  the  suburbs  of  the  city,  a  short  time  before. 

"He  was  driving  in  the  chariot  of  Herodus,  and 
Nicetas,  his  father,  sat  near  him.  Both  were  trying  to 
induce  him  to  call  the  Emperor  the  Most  High  God,  and 


THE    YOUTHFUL    CAPTIVE.  23 

to  offer  incense  before  his  statue.  But  finding  their 
entreaties  vain,  with  savage  fury  they  dashed  the  vener- 
able old  man  from  the  chariot,  and  his  face,  coming  in 
violent  contact  with  the  pavement,  was  deeply  wounded. 
He  arose  covered  with  blood,  but  proceeded  on  his  way 
as  joyous,  as  if  he  had  suffered  nothing.  This  was  the 
last  time  I  beheld  him. 

"The  sanctity  of  his  life  is  ever  present  to  my  mind. 
I  think  I  hear  him  still,  relating  the  conversation  he 
had  had  with  St.  John  and  others,  who  had  seen  our 
Lord,  and  all  they  had  told  him  of  His  doctrine  and 
miracles." 

"But,  dearest  mother,  thou  wast  not  witness  of  his 
last  hours,  of  his  farewell  discourse.  —  Thou  didst  not 
see  him  as  he  passed  the  bodies  of  young  Germanicus 
and  his  companions,  who  were  the  first  that  suffered, 
and  stood  before  Quadratus,  who,  in  a  voice  of  thunder, 
said  to  him,  'Swear  by  the  fortune  of  the  Emperor, 
despise  Christ,  and  I  promise  thee  thy  freedom !  Swear! ' 
At  this  command  the  spectators  pressed  forward,  in 
breathless  expectation  of  his  answer.  Polycarp  replied 
with  a  slow  and  solemn  voice : 

"'Already  six  and  eighty  years  have  I  served  my 
Lord,  and  He  has  never  yet  done  injury  to  me,  but  on 
the  contrary,  He  is  always  heaping  favors  on  me.  How 
can  I  curse  my  King — Him  who  has  redeemed  me? 
But  knowest  thou  not  of  the  future  judgment — and  of 
that  unquenchable  fire,  lighted  by  eternal  justice,  to 
torture  the  wicked?'  The  people  burned  with  the 
desire  of  seeing  the  judicatory  inquiry  at  an  end. 

"  They  had  already  looked  oh  blood,  and  drunk  from 


24  THE    YOUTHFUL    CAPTIVE. 

it  a  new  desire  for  murder.  At  this  moment  a  voice 
was  heard  from  one  of  the  principal  seats  of  the  Amphi- 
theatre, 'Let  wood  be  conveyed  hither!'  This  was 
echoed  by  a  thousand  voices.  'Wood!  Let  wood  be 
brought  hither ! '  In  a  few  moments  a  huge  pile  was 
erected.  Quadratus  gave  the  signal;  and  Polycarp, 
turning  to  his  faithful  followers,  bestowed  on  them  his 
last  Benediction,  unloosed  his  sandals,  removed  his 
girdle,  and  with  a  firm  step  ascended  the  pile ;  a  living 
testimony  of  the  words  of  St.  Paul : 

" '  Who  then  shall  separate  us  from  the  love  of  Christ  ? 
Shall  tribulation,  or  distress,  or  famine,  or  nakedness,  or 
danger,  or  persecution,  or  the  sword  ?  '  As  it  is  written : 
'  For  thy  sake  we  are  put  to  death  all  the  day  long :  we 
are  accounted  as  sheep  for  the  slaughter.'  '  But  in  all 
things  we  overcome,  because  of  Him  that  hath  loved  us. 
For  I  am  sure  that  neither  death,  nor  life,  nor  angels,  nor 
principalities,  nor  powers,  neither  things  present,  nor 
things  to  come ;  nor  might,  nor  height,  nor  depth,  nor 
any  other  creature,  shall  be  able  to  separate  us  from  the 
love  of  God,  which  is  in  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord.' 

"  As  the  executioner  was  in  the  act  of  binding  him  to 
the  stake,  he  said  in  a  low  voice:  'This  precaution  is 
unnecessary.  He  who  gives  me  strength  to  bear  these 
3ames,  will  also  give  me  strength  to  bear  them 
patiently.' 

"He  then  commenced  his  dying  prayer:  'Almighty 
God,  Father  of  Thy  dearly  beloved  Son,  Thou  God  of 
angels  and  the  Powers,  Thou  God  of  all  creatures !  I 
thank  Thee,  that  I  have  the  happiness  to  partake  of  the 
Cbalice  of  Thy  anointed  One.  Accept  me  into  the  num- 


THE    YOUTHFUL    CAPTIVE.  25 

ber  of  Thy  martyrs,  receive  me  as  an  agreeable  offering. 
I  praise  Thee  for  all  things,  and  glorify  and  magnify 
Thee  through  the  High  Priest,  Jesus  Christ,  to  whom 
with  Thee  and  the  Holy  Ghost,  be  all  honor  now  and  in 
eternity." 

"  "While  many  of  the  faithful,  who  were  present,"  con- 
tinued Seraphica,  "  were  offering  up  their  prayers  with 
him  in  silence,  there  arose  suddenly  a  clear,  bright  flame 
on  high,  which  caused  a  deathlike  stillness  in  the  multi- 
tude, and  behold  the  miracle!  The  roaring  element 
arched  around  the  saint,  like  a  mighty  sail  swelling  with 
the  wind.  A  deep  sound  of  horror  echoed  through  the 
crowd,  as  they  perceived  this  visible  and  miraculous 
interposition  of  the  God  of  the  Christians. 

"  "When  Quadratus  saw  that  Polycarp  was  untouched 
by  the  fire,  he  made  a  sign  to  one  of  the  executioners. 
All  waited  anxiously  for  the  fresh  commands,  and  in  an 
instant  one  of  the  executioners,  appointed  by  the  Pro- 
consul, sprang  upon  the  pile,  like  a  tiger  upon  his  prey, 
and  plunged  a  dagger  in  the  old  man's  breast.  Poly- 
carp  stood  motionless,  but  as  his  breathing  became 
quicker,  the  blood  flowed  profusely  from  his  wound  into 
the  flames  beneath.  He  sank  at  length  upon  his  knees, 
closed  his  eyes,  rendered  his  mighty  soul  to  Him  who 
gave  it,  and  his  body  to  the  flames." 

Here  Seraphica  was  silent ;  the  strongest  emotion  for 
some  minutes  overpowered  her.  She  leaned  her  head 
upon  her  mother's  shoulder,  and  her  raven  hair  fell  upon 
her  pale  face,  like  a  veil  of  mourning.  "  Let  us  be  com- 
forted," sobbed  forth  Charitana,  "  Polycarp  has  won  the 
crown  of  life.  He  was  an  unwearied  champion,  and  now 
3 


26  THE    YOUTHFUL    CAPTIVE. 

his  eternal  sabbath  has  begun.  He  fought  the  good 
fight,  and  went  to  receive  his  reward  on  the  very  day 
on  which  the  Eastern  Church  commemorates  the  death 
of  our  Redeemer." 

Charitana,  thinking  it  possible,  that  in  a  few  days 
more  Seraphica  would  follow  in  the  footsteps  of  the  holy 
Bishop,  continued  :  "  The  life  of  every  good  Christian  is 
a  martyrdom,  which  ends  but  in  death."  Seraphica, 
whose  mind  was  wholly  occupied  with  the  last  hours  of 
the  holy  Polycarp,  heard  but  little :  her  mother's  words 
died  on  her  ear,  and  she  continued  uninterruptedly: 
"  The  sanguinary  deed  was  scarcely  completed,  when  the 
people  cried  aloud:  'Long  live  the  Proconsul  and  Roman 
justice ! '  The  multitude  applauded,  but  we  Christians 
wept  in  silence. 

"His  sacred  relics  were  scattered  to  the  winds  by  the 
excited  people.  "We  still  lingered  on,  and  felt  as  though 
Polycarp,  phoenix-like,  had  risen  from  his  holy  ashes,  and 
overshadowed  his  orphan  children  with  his  protecting 
wings.  The  sandals,  staff,  and  girdle  of  the  saint,  lay 
untouched  before  us.  We  hastened  to  secure  these  pre- 
cious mementos.  Some  had  already  possessed  them- 
selves of  the  sandals  and  staff)  whilst  I,  endeavoring  to 
seize  the  girdle,  felt  in  the  same  moment  a  hand  upon 
my  shoulder,  and  a  rough  voice  spoke  aloud :  '  Behold, 
this  is  one  of  the  poisonous  plants  that  spring  up  from 
such  seed ! '  —  and  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye,  the  girdle 
was  twisted  round  my  arm  ;  —  I  was  bound,  led  across 
the  Arena,  and  cast  into  one  of  the  dark  cells  of  the  Am- 
phitheatre. This  then,  dearest  mother,  is  the  girdle  of 
which  I  speak;  and  these  are  the  spots  of  his  holy 


THE    YOUTHFUL    CAPTIVE.  27 

blood."  Charitana  took  the  sacred  relic  and  pressed  it  to 
her  lips.  Tears  fell  from  her  eyes,  but  they  were  not  so 
much  for  Polycarp,  as  for  her  noble-minded  daughter, 
who  seemed  to  suspect  nothing  of  the  probable  fate  that 
in  a  few  days  awaited  her.  "  Well,  Seraphica,"  said  the 
mother,  on  returning  the  girdle,  "  when  shall  we  meet 
again?"  "When  our  Heavenly  Father  wills  it!"  she 
answered,  and  resumed  her  former  discourse:  "As  I 
was  being  led  from  the  Amphitheatre  to  prison,  one  of 
our  friends,  Irenaus,  the  priest,  who  was  Polycarp's 
beloved  disciple,  met  me.  He  recognized  me,  drew 
closer,  and  admonished  me  in  Latin  as  follows :  '  Hold 
firmly  the  doctrines  of  your  Saviour,  which  the  Holy 
Ghost  hath  imprinted  in  thy  heart.' — Yes,  I  will  pre- 
serve it  —  yes,  to  my  last  breath."  "When  shall  we 
meet  again  ?  "  repeated  Charitana ;  "  which  of  us  shall  be 
first  called  hence  —  thou  or  I  ?  " 

Seraphica  perceived  the  anguish  with  which  the  ques- 
tion was  accompanied,  and  seizing  her  mother's  hand, 
replied :  "  We  shall  die  in  that  very  hour  that  God  wills, 
and  not  when  man  conjectures.  On  my  account  cease  to 
be  anxious.  '  /  shall  not  die  yet.1  I  have  besought  our 
Lord  not  yet  to  call  me  to  my  eternal  home.  I  wish  to 
suffer,  but  not  to  die ;  I  burn  with  the  desire  of  showing 
to  the  world,  in  the  mirror  of  a  pure  life,  the  doctrines 
of  our  Eedeemer,  and  to  relate  to  many  of  the  unbe- 
lievers, what  the  Son  of  God  has  done  for  man :  and  not 
till  I  have  fulfilled  that  mission,  shall  I  be  called  hence. 
.  It  may  be  long  till  then !  God  has  heard  my  prayer, 
and  my  Guardian  Angel  has  revealed  it  to  me."  Sud- 


28  THE   YOUTHFUL    CAPTIVE. 

denly  loud  knocks  were  heard  at  the  door.  —  The  jailer 
commands  Charitana  to  depart,  and  does  not  even  give 
her  time  to  take  leave  of  her  beloved  child. 

Seraphica  was  again  alone ;  she  reflected  on  the  words : 
"  Which  of  us  shall  first  be  taken  hence  ?  "  but  the 
answer  gave  her  no  anxiety.  Casting  her  eyes  on  the 
lovely  fruit  which  her  mother  had  brought,  she  took  a 
pomegranate,  and  on  dividing  it,  she  discovered  in  the 
centre  some  pieces  of  gold :  they  were  evidently  secreted 
there  for  Seraphica,  that  she  might  therewith  soften  the 
heart  of  her  savage  jailer.  She  tasted  the  fruit,  but  could 
not  eat,  for  she  was  unable  to  swallow. 

The  jailer  detained  Charitana  at  the  door  of  the  prison. 
"Well,  it  seems  you  have  forgotten  the  promise  you 
made  before  I  allowed  you  to  enter.  Did  you  not  speak 
of  a  magnificent  diamond,  that  you  were  to  give  me  ?  — 
Come,  where  is  the  precious  stone  ?  " 

u  You  are  right,"  replied  Charitana,  "  I  promised  you 
a  gift  of  more  value  than  this  terrestrial  globe,  were  it 
composed  of  diamonds.  This  treasure  is  the  mystery  of 
Faith,  and  those  who  possess  it,  become  a  free  people, — 
yes,  become  kings  and  princes.  I  will  impart  to  thee 
those  mysteries." 

"  How,  fool  ?  Will  you  take  upon  you  the  part  of 
Apollo,  who  once  stuck  upon  the  Phrygian  king  a  pair 
of  long  ears  ?  You  want  to  make  a  Midas  of  me !  — 
No  —  no ;  you  must  be  the  cheated  one,  not  I.  Do  you 
hear  the  noises  coming  from  the  slave  market  ?  those  are 
the  cries  of  the  Christians  undergoing  the  lash.  Thou,  , 
fool,  art  also  a  Christian,  and  one  of  the  worst.  I  over- 


THE    YOUTHFUL    CAPTIVE.  29 

heard  distinctly  your  conversation  in  the  dungeon,  and 
this  very  evening  I  shall  hear  the  gold  and  silver  I  shall 
receive  for  your  detection,  jingling  in  my  pocket."  He 
then  thrust  the  unhappy  mother  into  a  cell,  and  closed 
the  door  with  such  violence,  that  the  noise  echoed  like 
thunder  along  the  corridors. 
3* 


CHAPTER   II. 


THE   EARTHQUAKE. 

FTER  the  conquest  of  Asia  Minor  by  the 
Romans,  Smyrna,  one  of  her  most  cele- 
brated cities,  was  obliged  to  pay  her  share 
of  the  yearly  tribute  imposed  on  the  prov- 
ince, in  wool,  carpets,  mohair,  tapestry,  nut- 
galls,  and  above  all,  gold-dust  from  the 
rivers  Hermos  and  Paktolos,  and  whatever 
luxuries  the  extravagant  Romans  could  desire,  in  Asiatic 
perfumes  and  cosmetics,  which  were  brought  to  the  har- 
bor, and  shipped  for  Rome,  as  were  also  slaves  in  great 
numbers. 

Notwithstanding  this  heavy  tax  upon  the  people,  trade 
flourished,  and  the  population  became  so  numerous,  that 
the  shady  gardens  and  capacious  quays,  which  sur- 
rounded the  lovely  bay,  could  scarcely  accommodate  the 
various  classes  of  the  inhabitants,  who  thronged  there, 
for  their  evening  promenade,  to  enjoy  the  cool  sea- 
breezes. 

Here  also  might  be  seen  the  Roman  Proconsul,  Statius 
Quadratus,  attended  by  his  body-guard.  It  was  to  him 
the  merit  was  due,  that  the  tribute  flowed  in  so  freelv. 

(30) 


THE   EARTHQUAKE.  31 

Quadratus  turned  aside  from  the  crowd,  and  walked 
towards  the  shore,  when  he  met  Asmenes,  a  priest  of 
Isis,  who  had  been  educated  in  Egypt,  for  the  service  of 
that  goddess.  He  bowed  to  the  Proconsul,  who  said  to 
him,  "  Well,  Egyptian  naturalist,  tell  me  whence  comes 
this  oppressive  heat,  at  this  unusual  season  of  the 
year?" 

"  A  difficult  question,"  replied  Asmenes ;  "  although  in 
the  calends  of  November,  we  have  a  heat  which  seldom 
occurs  in  the  height  of  summer.  I  did  suppose  the  even- 
ing would  have  become  cool,  but  it  seems  just  as  if  the 
heat  increases  in  the  same  degree  as  the  sun  recedes.  I 
wonder  whether  the  Christians,  who  fare  but  badly  in 
the  market,  have  not  used  some  mysterious  means  against 
the  sun ! " 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  said  Quadratus. 

"  It  is  said,"  replied  Asmenes,  "  that  the  Thessalonians 
are  masters  in  necromancy,  and  that  there  are  more 
soothsayers  and  magicians  amongst  them  than  amongst 
any  other  people.  But  for  my  own  part,  I  think  that 
the  greatest  are  to  be  found  amongst  the  Christians.  It 
is  beyond  doubt,  that  at  the  death  of  their  great  Prophet, 
the  sun  withdrew  his  light  for  three  hours ;  and  it  is  also 
related  that  in  bygone  times,  the  sun  stood  still  in  the 
heavens  for  three  days.  It  was  only  this  spring,  when 
Polycarp  was  before  your  tribunal,  a  mysterious  voice 
spoke  to  him,  which  was  distinctly  heard  by  all  present.* 
But  thanks,  a  thousand  thanks  to  you,  noble  Proconsul, 
who  have  granted  our  petitions,  and  well  rid  Smyrna  of 

*  As  Polycarp  entered  the  Amphitheatre,  a  voice  was  heard  from  Heaven, 
"  Take  courage,  Polycarp  ! " 


32  THE   EARTHQUAKE. 

that  sorry  scoundrel. —  Ha!  look  at  them  bound  in  the 
ship  yonder !  O  may  Isis  grant  thee  for  this,  health, 
happiness,  and  prosperity !  "  Both  advanced  a  little  far- 
ther up  the  walk,  which  led  to  the  shore.  Several  cara- 
vans returning  from  Arabia,  and  laden  with  its  treasures, 
passed  them  by  on  their  way  to  the  city,  there  to  deliver 
them  on  the  coming  market-day,  and  to  reload  with  other 
wares,  to  sell  again  in  their  own  country. 

Quadratus  was  a  man  of  mean  education,  and  very 
superstitious ;  he  continued  to  dwell  upon  the  witchcraft, 
which,  according  to  the  priest  of  Isis,  lay  in  the  hands 
of  the  Christians ;  and  as  the  heat  increased,  his  anxiety 
became  the  more  intense.  At  last,  he  stood  still,  and 
looking  towards  the  "West,  said,  "  Do  you  see  that  strange 
appearance  ? "  convulsively  seizing  the  priest's  arm. 
"  Look  at  that  unusual  red,  covering  the  heavens !  *  It 
cannot  possibly  be  the  reflection  of  the  setting  sun, 
which  appears  yonder  on  Argos.  What  are  the  gods 
about  to  send  us  ?  "  Asmenes  looked  in  silence  on  the 
spectacle.  Deeper  still  became  the  glowing  red,  the 
higher  it  rose  in  the  heave"ns,  till  it  ended  in  a  deep 
violet  hue. 

On  the  extreme  verge  of  the  horizon,  a  pale  yellow 
gleam  extended  along  the  North,  West,  and  South,  until 
it  approached  the  East,  where  it  was  scarcely  visible; 
and  little  bluish  vapors  rose  from  the  sea,  which  became 
larger  as  they  ascended.  The  temperature  then  changed 
into  that  of  a  rough,  sharp  harvest  season ;  small  clouds 
danced,  spectre-like,  here  and  there,  upon  the  surface  of 
the  water,  and  rising  in  the  air  passed  over  the  city,  and 
spread  themselves  on  the  neighboring  hills. 


THE  EARTHQUAKE.  33 

"  Do  I  deceive  myself,"  said  the  Proconsul,  "  or  are  we 
actually  in  a  thick  fog  ?  I  feel  fearfully  cold  too.  Let 
us  hasten  home:  I  fear  the  worst,  either  pestilence,  or 
war,  or  a  general  devastation."  "It  is  the  departure  of 
the  Christians,"  said  Asmenes;  "they  are  preparing  all 
this  for  us ;  I  have  expected  nothing  less  than  that  their 
departure  would  be  connected  with  some  such  display. 
Thus,  when  in  old  times  they  fled  out  of  Egypt  from 
king  Pharaoh,  they  did  similar  things,  and  even  divided 
the  Eed  Sea,  so  that  they  passed  through  as  if  on  dry 
land  ;  while  Pharaoh  and  his  whole  army  found  death  in 
attempting  to  follow  them.  And  it  is  very  possible,  that 
their  departure  now  will  also  be  accompanied  with  bad 
consequences." 

With  this  apprehension,  they  separated,  the  priest  to 
his  dwelling,  and  the  Proconsul  to  the  palace,  for  conso- 
lation from  Herod,  the  Irenarch. 

A  number  of  dark  Smyrnians  were  passing  along  the 
streets,  some  seeking  the  open  air,  others  the  harbor ;  for 
the  oldest  inhabitants  understood  the  signs,  and  remem- 
bered that  they  were  always  followed  by  a  greater  or 
lesser  convulsion  of  the  earth. 

Quadratus,  accompanied  by  his  body-guard,  then  hast- 
ened home.  His  palace  formed  a  wing  of  the  citadel, 
which  was  so  elevated,  that  one  could  scarcely  fear  any 
danger.  He  durst  not  trust  himself  in  the  open  air,  for 
he  dreaded  the  unusual  excitement  called  forth  amongst 
the  greater  portion  of  the  inhabitants,  by  his  cruel  per- 
secution of  the  Christians.  £To  sooner  had  he  arrived 
at  the  citadel,  than  he  ran  anxiously  through  all  the 
apartments,  and  looked  out  at  the  starry  heavens,  first 


34  THE    EARTHQUAKE. 

through  one  window,  and  then  through  another.  He, 
who  has  so  often  proudly  rocked  himself  in  his  Sella, 
and  laughed  as  he  looked  on,  while  the  combatants  in 
the  Arena  are  torn  to  pieces  by  lions,  or  the  condemned 
Christians  cast  to  wild  beasts,  has  now  become  a  trem- 
bling coward,  as  soon  as  he  sees  his  own  life  in  jeop- 
ardy. 

Herod  showed  more  courage.  He  preferred  to  watch 
the  operations  of  nature.  When  all  was  silent  and  mo- 
tionless, he  mounted  his  steed,  and  rode  with  some  friends 
to  a  beautiful  valley  outside  the  city,  which  to  the  present 
day  is  called  the  "Valley  of  Paradise." 

Midnight  was  approaching;  the  heavens  were  beauti- 
fully clear,  and  a  solemn  stillness  reigned  around.  All 
listened  with  breathless  attention,  yet  no  sound  could  be 
heard  of  that  hollow,  subterraneous  rumbling  which 
usually  precedes  a  convulsion  of  the  earth.  Even  one 
amongst  the  party,  who  laid  his  ear  close  to  the  ground, 
could  not  discover  anything  to  cause  alarm. 

Herod  suddenly  thought  that  he  heard,  not  far  distant, 
something  he  could  not  define.  His  friends  were  divided 
in  their  opinions,  till  it  was  soon  discovered  to  be  the 
reiterated  barks  of  a  watch-dog,  on  the  roof  of  an  adja- 
cent villa.  The  barking  echoed  along  the  valley,  and 
became  gradually  stronger  and  quicker,  till  it  broke  out 
into  a  loud,  tremulous  howl,  which  was  soon  taken  up 
by  several  other  dogs  in  the  neighborhood.  "A  remark- 
able omen,"  said  Herod,  as  he  shook  his  head  thought- 
fully. On  a  sudden,  the  horses,  with  manes  erect,  pawed 
the  ground,  reared,  plunged,  and  dashed  with  their  riders, 
foaming,  on. 


THE    EARTHQUAKE.  35 

1 

Close  to  the  city,  the  greater  part  of  the  inhabitants, 
weary  of  watching,  and  exhausted  with  anxiety,  returned 
to  their  dwellings.  While  some  wondered  that  the  ap- 
pearances were  so  much  dreaded,  others  were  inquiring 
if  the  same  signs  had  ever  been  observed  before,  without 
having  been  followed  by  evil  consequences.  The  more 
cautious  took  balls  of  stone  or  metal,  and  suspended 
them  by  threads  or  long  hairs  from  the  ceiling  of  their 
rooms,  in  order  to  detect  the  first  motion,  and  save  them- 
selves by  immediate  flight.  Watches  were  placed  on 
nearly  all  the  houses ;  but  the  silence  was  unbroken  save, 
from  time  to  time,  by  a  footfall,  or  the  anxious  whisper- 
ings of  human  voices.  Although  the  guards  were  so 
numerous,  still  they  were  insufficient  to  protect  the 
property  of  the  inhabitants  from  plunder.  Thieves  were 
lurking  in  all  directions,  hoping  to  profit  by  the  general 
consternation. 

Asmenes,  the  priest  of  Isis,  on  his  return  home,  dis- 
covered that  a  great  robbery  had  been  committed  in  his 
absence.  Occupied  with  the  things  that  were  then  pass- 
ing, he  had  forgotten  to  lock  up  his  effects  carefully,  and 
behold!  he  found  himself  robbed  of  his  new  golden 
Sistom,  or  "Isis-rattle."  Complaining  to  his  goddess, 
that  she  did  not  protect  her  own  property,  and  burning 
with  rage,  he  armed  himself  with  a  sharp  knife,  and  ran 
down  to  the  vestibule,  thinking  probably,  that  a  second 
attempt  would  be  made  on  his  house.  He  waited  there 
a  long  time.  The  cheerfulness  wherewith  a  little  com- 
pany of  captive  Christians  were  wending  their  way 
through  Hercules  Street,  towards  the  sea,  formed  a  strik- 
ing contrast  to  his  fury.  The  slave-masters,  fearing 


36  THE    EARTHQUAKE. 

the  worst,  wished,  for  greater  security,  to  put  them  aboard 
the  ships,  and  send  them  out  to  sea  when  the  signs  be- 
came sufficiently  alarming. 

The  procession  approached  an  arch,  with  two  torch- 
bearers  in  advance.  The  captives  were  entoning  one 
of  the  beautiful  canticles  of  their  persecuted  Church,  as 
they  passed  along.  Asmenes  stole  behind  a  pillar,  and 
as  the  words,  "Laudate  Dominum  omnes  gentes,"  fell 
upon  his  ear,  he  muttered  to  himself,  "These  are  the 
blasphemers,  the  robbers,  the  cannibals,  who  are  bring- 
ing so  much  misery  on  Smyrna !  Now  they  approach  I 
Nemesis  will  deliver  them  up  to  my  vengeance: — an 
agreeable  sacrifice  to  the  Shade  of  Hades ! "  Seizing  his 
knife,  he  darted  forward,  exclaiming,  "Thieves!  give 
me  back  my  Sistrum — my  golden  Sistrum!" — and — 
crash! — a  terrific  rumbling  like  thunder,  rolls  beneath. 
— The  earth,  no  longer  able  to  restrain  the  pent-up  ele- 
ment, bursts  asunder  at  the  very  feet  of  the  heathen 
priest, — he  totters — falls,  and  in  an  instant  finds  his 
grave.  The  fiery  element  just  liberated,  rushes  with 
ungovernable  fury  along  the  streets. — Another  shock : — 
house  after  house  heaves; — towers  totter ; — castles  are 
rent  asunder,  and  street  after  street  are  heaps  of  ruins. 

But  what  of  the  wretched  inhabitants  ?  They  run  to 
and  fro  in  wild  despair :  they  call  on  the  gods  to  help 
them  : — "  Help !  help !  ye  gods,  or  we  are  lost ! "  Some, 
in  frantic  haste,  hurrying  to  the  shipping ;  whilst  others 
seek  refuge  in  the  mountains,  or  in  the  adjacent  fields. 
The  darkness  increases  the  horrors  of  the  awful  scene. 

The  upper  part  of  the  city  remained  still  undisturbed. 
The  massive  edifices  and  principal  temples  had  as  yet 


THE    EARTHQUAKE.  37 

withstood  the  fury  of  the  element.  Many  of  the  people 
fled  on  the  wings  of  terror  to  the  temples  of  their  gods ; 
particularly  to  the  great  sanctuary  of  Homer,  which  was 
soon  densely  crowded.  The  confusion  reached  its  height ; 
flight  was  impossible,  on  account  of  the  innumerable 
piles  of  smoking  ruins,  that  everywhere  impeded  the 
steps  of  the  unhappy  fugitives.  Men,  women,  and  chil- 
dren of  every  class,  whom  terror  had  deprived  of  their 
senses,  might  be  seen,  here  and  there  lying  among  their 
fallen  dwellings.  The  dead  were  carried  into  the  open 
places  by  hundreds,  still  greater  was  the  number  of 
wounded,  bruised,  and  maimed:  and  heart-rending  were 
the  agonizing  shrieks  of  those  who  were  lying  half 
buried  beneath  the  scorching  ruins,  unable  to  afford 
themselves  the  slightest  assistance. 

The  increasing  darkness  suggested  the  necessity  of 
seeking  the  aid  of  torches ;  and  he  who  was  fortunate 
enough  to  pick  up  one,  hoped  by  its  means  to  find  his 
way  out  of  the  city.  But  the  endless  heaps  of  rubbish, 
the  rising  exhalations,  and  the  clouds  of  dust,  rendered 
escape  impossible.  Even  where  a  free  passage  was  left, 
the  red  flickering  light  of  the  torches  served  only  to 
make  the  "darkness  visible."  In  several  parts  of  the 
city,  the  fire  burst  forth  again  with  redoubled  fury,  and 
destroyed,  with  incredible  rapidity,  everything  within 
its  reach.  Some  maintained  that  it  proceeded  from  the 
earth,  whilst  others  thought  it  was  caused  by  the  fires 
of  the  forges  and  of  the  dwelling-houses  buried  beneath 
the  ruins.  Each  one  had  something  terrific  to  relate, 
and  many  were  of  opinion  that  the  end  of  all  things  was 
at  hand,  and  that  the  world  was  about  to  be  destroyed 

4 


38  THE    EARTHQUAKE. 

by  fire.  Suddenly  cries  were  heard  from  the  quarter 
where  stood  the  palace  and  citadel :  a  fresh  chasm  in  the 
earth  was  issuing  forth  another  destructive  fire. 

Statius  Quadratus  hoped  to  save  himself  .by  taking 
refuge  on  the  highest  terrace  of  the  citadel.  But  he 
hoped  in  vain ;  for  whilst  on  bended  knees  he  was  im- 
ploring the  protection  of  the  gods,  a  roaring  flame  issued 
from  the  foundations,  and  forced  its  way  through  the 
palace  till  it  reached  the  terrace  where  he  was.  Terri- 
fied at  the  sight,  he  drew  back  so  far,  that  he  had  no 
other  choice  but  to  cast  himself  down  from  the  height, 
or  become  a  victim  to  the  devouring  fire.  "  Ten  thou- 
sand sesterces  to  him  who  helps  me ! "  But  the  flames 
have  already  claimed  their  victim.  A  scream,  a  faint 
moan,  and  Statius  Quadratus  has  finished  his  wicked 
career. 

Up  to  this  time,  by  the  fall  of  such  masses  of  dwell- 
ings, no  less  than  the  tenth  part  of  the  inhabitants  lost 
their  lives.  Those  who  had  sought  refuge  in  the  Tem- 
ple of  Homer,  were  nearly  all  crushed  to  death  by  the 
falling  of  the  roof  and  pillars ;  but  what  appeared  most 
strange  was,  that  the  bronze  statue  of  the  poet  himself 
was  split  from  head  to  foot.  More  fortunate  was  the  lot 
of  those  who,  like  the  Christians,  sought  in  the  first 
instance  to  save  themselves  by  sea.  The  unusual  calm- 
ness of  the  waters  formed  a  striking  contrast  with  the 
destruction  and  devastation  which  raged  on  the  shore. 

Two  hours  after  the  tremendous  shocks  on  land,  the 
sea  began  to  heave  and  swell  at  the  mouths  of  the 
Hermos.  Although  the  tide  was  then  at  the  ebb,  it 
rose,  with  the  greatest  rapidity,  far  above  the  highest 


THE   EARTHQUAKE.  39 

flood-mark.  On  a  sudden,  a  volcanic  force  beneath 
raised  the  foaming  waters  mountain-high,  and  bearing 
the  richly  laden  vessels  on  their  convulsed  bosom, 
swept  them  as  if  triumphantly  across  the  stone  pier, 
and  cast  them  into  the  city.  Then  gaining  a  height 
of  more  than  eighty  feet,  they  passed  over  the  highest 
buildings,  still  standing,  and  in  their  course  quenched 
the  volumes  of  flames  which  were  issuing  from  all  parts 
of  the  city.  As  if  the  sea  were  charged  to  complete  the 
work  of  desolation,  its  waters  receded  slowly,  leaving 
the  shattered  vessels  mingled  with  the  smoking  ruins ;  * 
and  in  its  return,  bore  back  in  thousands,  the  dead 
bodies  of  the  inhabitants.  In  such  horrors  the  night 
passed  on. 

At  last,  impenetrable  darkness  gave  place  to  the 
morning-dawn.  The  earth  was  at  rest,  and  the  sea  had 
resumed  its  wonted  calm.  The  survivors,  although  they 
had  lost  all,  looked  upon  themselves  as  enviable  mortals. 
Strangers  embraced  each  other,  as  though  they  had  been 
dear  friends  meeting  after  a  long  separation. — It  was  a 
sad  mingling  of  joy  and  sorrow.  On  one  side  could  be 
seen  fathers  and  mothers  weeping  over  the  dead  bodies 
of  their  children;  on  the  other,  children  inconsolable 
for  the  loss  of  their  beloved  parents.  The  morning  sun 
rose  in  splendor,  and  the  sparkling  waters  danced  in  his 
beams,  as  if  rejoicing  to  meet  again. 

What  form  is  moving  yonder  on  the  heights?  pale 
and  slender,  robed  in  white,  enriched  with  the  golden 
hues  of  the  rising  sun;  bearing  a  broken  chain  on  one 
arm,  and  a  girdle  on  the  other.  It  seems  as  though  it 

*  One  large-sized  vessel  was  found  in  the  centre  of  the  ruined  Theatre. 


40  THE   EARTHQUAKE. 

were  the  guardian  spirit  of  this  once  great  city,  mourning 
over  its  fall.  Slowly  and  thoughtfully  she  passes  on,  till 
she  reaches  the  still  smoking  ruins  of  the  citadel.  She 
pauses,  and  casting  down .  her  soft  dark  eyes,  surveys 
the  desolation  that  lies  before  her.  The  spectacle  sur- 
prises her,  but  her  mien  betrays  neither  fear  nor  horror. 
Her  expression  is  that  of  silent  resignation  to  the  will 
of  Him  who  makes  the  earth  his  footstool.  She  was 
roused  from  her  reverie  by  a  voice  exclaiming,  "  Sera- 
phica  here !  The  captive  at  liberty !  The  victim  of 
death  standing  over  the  tombs  of  her  persecutors ! " 

Seraphica  answered  with  a  gentle  gravity,  "Yes, 
Irenaus,"  for  it  was  he,  "  the  captive  is  |ree.  After  one 
had  opened  the  door  of  my  prison  to  announce  my  ap- 
proacking  death,  another,  mightier  than  he,  rent  its 
strong  walls  asunder,  and  I  was  liberated.  I  now  stand 
gazing  on  a  city  whose  splendor  has  vanished  from  the 
earth.  Even  whilst  I  am  now  speaking,  I  see  several 
buildings  falling  into  ruins. — Irenaus,  is  not  that  my 
mother's  dwelling?  Oh,  what  of  her,  revered  master? 
Is  she  amongst  the  living  or  the  dead  ?  " 

"  You  could  scarcely  wonder,"  replied  Irenaus,  "  if  she 
had  shared  the  fate  of  so  many.  But  no,  Seraphica,  she 
is  saved,  but  saved  by  slavery.  She  and  some  of  her 
companions  in  the  faith,  were,  last  night,  shipped  for 
Home.  But  delay  not  to  save  yourself;  your  chains 
show  that  you  are  a  captive." 

An  hour  later,  Seraphica  was  seen  standing  on  the 
deck  of  the  only  safe  vessel  to  be  found  in  the  harbor. 
She  was  on  her  way  for  Greece.  One  look — as  the 
vessel  receded  from  the  shore,  and  it  was  the  last,  upon 


THE   EARTHQUAKE.  41 

the  ruins  of  a  city  where  she  had  spent  her  few  and 
momentous  years. 

She  could  discern  her  mother's  half-destroyed  dwelling 
on  the  projection  of  a  hill ;  but  the  palm-trees  and  little 
garden  had  disappeared.  And  behold!  while  she  was 
still  gazing,  the  walls  gave  way,  the  roof  fell  in,  and 
nothing  remained  of  her  once  beloved  home. 

4* 


CHAPTER   III. 


METELLA. 

E  will  now  conduct  our  readers  to  charming 
Attica,  so  often  celebrated  in  the  poet's 
song, — to  the  land  of  great  generals  and 
lawgivers,  to  the  cradle  of  philosophy,  to 
the  seat  of  the  Muses,  and  to  the  place  of 
refuge  for  the  Faith. 

The  fame  of  Athens  had,  at  this  time, 
out-grown  itself,  and  began  to  tend  towards  her  ruin. 
But  even  then  she  was  in  possession  of  all  the  intellec- 
tual acquirements  of  past  ages,  and  enjoyed  the  results 
of  the  thoughts,  actions,  and  labors  of  her  forefathers. 
For  this  reason,  it  is  the  ripest  and  most  beautiful  period 
in  her  history.  As  the  sun  increases  in  beauty,  whilst 
sinking  in  the  "West,  so  did  Athens  when  verging  on  her 
downfall. 

The  Emperor,  Adrian,  loved  Athens  more  than  any 
other  city  in  his  vast  dominions ;  and  all  the  magnificent 
edifices  and  new  regular  streets  on  the  other  side  of 
Adrian's  Arch,  extending  wide,  and  forming,  as  it  were, 
a  second  city, — were  the  work  of  this  great  Emperor. 
After  this  vast  addition,  Athens  could  accommodate 

(42) 


METELLA.  43 

180,000  inhabitants.  Adrian's  Arch  which  thus  con- 
nected the  old  city  with  the  new,  and  which  to  this  day 
is  in  good  preservation,  proclaims  the  later  history  of 
Greece  in  that  degree  of  development  in  which  the 
Eoman  life  was  bound  up  with  that  of  the  ancient  Greek, 
and  which  had  blended  both  nationalities  into  one. 

Outside  the  old  city,  to  the  north-east,  was  a  pyramid- 
ical  mountain,  called  Lycabett ;  at  the  present  time  it  is 
overgrown  with  thorns  and  brushwood.  As  tradition 
runs,  Pallas,  the  tutelar  goddess  of  Athens,  was  at  one. 
time  fully  occupied  in  ordering  materials  for  building 
the  Acropolis,  which  was  dedicated  to  her.  She  was 
carrying  even  the  Lycabett  in  her  arms,  when  a  crow 
fluttered  round,  and  announced  to  her  the  birth  of  Erich- 
thonius.  Seized  with  terror,  she  let  the  mountain  fall, 
close  by  Athens,  where  it  now  stands. 

At  the  foot  of  this  mountain,  from  the  summit  of 
which  the  traveller  has  a  charming  view  of  Athens  to- 
wards the  citadel,  and  of  the  blue  sea,  were  the  palaces 
of  the  Greek  and  Roman  nobles,  who  had  settled  there ; 
and  one  which  occupied  the  first  place  amongst  them, 
was  that  of  a  Greek  matron,  named  Metella.  It  stood 
not  far  from  the  principal  entrance  to  the  famous  aque- 
duct, built  by  Adrian,  a'nd  a  little  higher  than  the  mag- 
nificent royal  citadel  outside  Athens,  which  strangers 
still  admire. 

Like  all  the  edifices  of  Adrian's  time,  Metella's  palace 
was  of  Roman  architecture :  still  the  better  taste  of  the 
Grecian  was  not  wanting  in  the  lightness  and  elegance 
with  which  the  design  was  carried  out.  Inserted  on  the 
front  of  the  vestibule,  was  a  marble  slab,  on  which 


44  METELLA. 

might  be  read  the  name  of  the  owner.  Over  the  door 
of  the  principal  entrance  stood  a  brazen  statue,  repre- 
senting Hope,  with  the  inscription,  "  Dum  spiro  spero," 
"As  long  as  I  breathe  I  shall  hope." 

Guarding  the  porch  or  entrance  -  hall,  was  a  slave, 
beautifully  attired.  He  bore  handsomely  wrought  fetters, 
which  he  rattled  from  time  to  time,  thereby  to  give  him- 
self the  appearance  of  a  doorkeeper.  His  walk,  and 
the  ease  with  which  he  swung  his  chain,  proved  that 
,  pride  knows  how  to  govern  all  classes  of  society,  down 
to  an  ignorant  doorkeeper. 

Metella  tarries  on  the  Pergula,  a  name  given  to  a 
pavilion  on  the  roof,  and  which  is  supported  by  gilt  pil- 
lars. The  lady,  in  all  her  natural  elegance,  reclines  on 
a  couch ;  and  near  her  stands  a  marble  table,  on  which 
lies  an  unfolded  book-roll.  It  is  the  work  of  a  Eoman 
poet,  her  darling  Virgil,  whose  eclogues  she  is  reading. 
She  raises  herself,  and  taking  her  pen,  writes  down  one 
of  the  most  beautiful  passages,  on  the  re-perusal  of 
which,  her  eye,  and  the  movement  of  her  head,  show 
plainly,  that  the  depth  of  some  of  the  poet's  words  are 
not  clear  to  her.  But  some  of  the  verses  please  her  so 
much,  that  she  reads  them  aloud. 

"  Sicilian  Muse,  begin  a  loftier  strain ! 
Tho'  lonely  shrubs  and  trees  that  shade  the  plain 

Delight  not  all 

The  last  great  age,  foretold  by  sacred  rhymes, 
Renews  its  finish'd  course  ;  Saturnian  times 
Roll  round  again,  and  mighty  years,  begun 
From  their  first  orb,  in  radiant  circles  run. 
The  base  degenerate  iron  offspring  ends ; 
A  golden  progeny  from  heav'n  descends :  .  .  .  . 


METELLA.  45 

The  lovely  boy,  with  his  auspicious  face, 
Shall  Pollio's  consulship  and  triumph  grace ; 
Majestic  months  set  out  with  him' to  their  appointed  race. 
The  father  banish'd  virtue  shall  restore, 
And  crimes  shall  threat  the  guilty  world  no  more. 
The  son  shall  lead  the  life  of  gods,  and  be 
By  gods  and  heroes  seen,  and  gods  and  heroes  see. 
The  jarring  nations  he  in  peace  shall  bind, 
And  with  perpetual  virtues  rule  mankind. 

Mature  in  years,  to  ready  honors  move, 
0  of  celestial  seed !     0  foster-son  of  Jove  1 
See  lab'ring  Nature  calls  thee  to  sustain 
The  nodding  frame  of  Heav'n,  and  earth,  and  main ; 
See,  to  their  base  restor'd,  earth,  seas,  and  air, 
And  joyful  ages  from  behind,  in  crowding  ranks  appear, 
.       To  sing  thy  praise,  would  heav'n  my  breath  prolong, 
Infusing  spirits  worthy  such  a  song ; 
Not  Thracian  Orpheus  should  transcend  my  lays, 
Nor  Linus  crown'd  with  never-fading  bays  ; 
Though  each  his  heav'nly  parent  should  inspire; 
The  Muse  instruct  the  voice,  and  Phosbus  tune  the  lyre."  * 

"  Yirgil,  thou  speakest  beautifully,"  says  Metella,  "but 
I  cannot  understand  thee.  Nearly  fifty  Olympiads  have 
passed  since  thy  death,  and  I  know  nothing  of  that  child 
of  the  gods,  who  is  to  expiate  guilt,  and  to  redeem  the 
world.  There  are  a  people  in  Asia,  who  believe  that  a 
god  had  lived  amongst  them,  but  he  came  to  an  evil 
end. 

"When  will  the  human  mind  find  truth  upon  earth? 
It  will  ever  stand  before  an  enigma,  and  never  solve  it, 
for  that  enigma  is  itself." 

She  takes  up  a  book,  in  Greek,  an  old  work  on  history, 

*  Dryden's  Virgil. 


46  METELLA. 

which  relates  the  misfortunes  of  Cyrus,  king  of  Persia. 
She  has  scarcely  read  a  few  pages,  when  she  seeks  an- 
other chapter;  nor  does  that  content  her.  "Always  the 
same,"  murmured  she,  "Cyrus  broke  up  and  advanced: 
here  he  commenced ;  Cyrus  liked  this,  and  wished  that 
you  also  might  partake  of  the  enjoyment." 

"No  Xenophon,"  she  exclaims,  "thou  art  ever  bread 
without  salt,  tasteless  and  unpalatable." — 

She  seizes  the  scrolls  and  casts  them  down  on  the  pol- 
ished Mosaic  floor,  so  that  they  roll  against  the  marble 
balustrades  of  the  balcony. 

"  O  time !  0  time ! "  she  continues,  "  how  unjust  thou 
art  sometimes  with  the  works  of  the  human  mind  I 
How  often  dost  thou  break  to  pieces  in  thy  iron  mortar 
the  best  and  most  beautiful,  and  scatterest  it  to  the  winds, 
scarcely  leaving  a  remnant  for  us,  whilst  thou  care- 
fully preservest  in  thy  sanctuary  the  insipid  and  weari- 
some works,  presenting  them  anew  from  one  generation 
to  another  I 

"  But  what  want  we  with  a  book  in  this  city ! 

"Athens  lies  open  at  my  feet,  —  a  book  of  which 
Cecrops,  seventeen  hundred  years  ago,  wrote  the  title- 
page,  and  Theseus,  the  first  chapter, — a  work,  each 
leaf  of  which  tells  of  wisdom,  of  power,  and  of  char- 
acter. O  let  me  read  in  thy  pages,  thou  great,  thou 
lovely  city!"  — 

"  ATHENS,  THOU  FEABEST  THE  GODS,  and  carriest  the 
traces  of  thy  piety  written  on  thy  marble  forehead — on 
that  Acropolis  rich  in  temples. 

"  Countless  statues  hide  the  sanctuary  of  Pallas  from 
my  view.  Through  gratitude  to  the  gods,  under  whom 


METELLA.  47 

-<Egides  fought  and  conquered,  our  forefathers  erected 
the  Parthenon,*  and  its  founder,  the  immortal  Pericles, 
speaks  from  every  column  an  earnest  assurance  to 
future  ages,  that  a  nation  is  never  so  strong,  nor  so 
powerful  abroad,  as  when  its  religion  is  strictly  observed 
at  home. 

"  Behold,  in  the  centre  of  the  Parthenon,  the  colossal 
of  the  Athenian  Promachos.  Her  gigantic  form,  towers 
above  terrace,  dome,  and  cupola ;  and  her  brazen,  plumed 
helmet  and  shining  spear  announce  to  the  distant  lonely 
fisherman  of  Sunium,  that  thou,  lovely  Athens!  art 
under  the  protection  of  Pallas.f 

"  ATHENS,  THOU  ART  JUST  !  and  whoever  doubts  this, 
let  him  look  at  the  Areopagus  on  yonder  hill,  in  whose 
hall  of  justice  the  Archons,  during  the  solemn  silence 
of  night,  assembled  in  council,  to  pass  judgment  on  the 
crimes  committed  against  religion  and  the  state. 

"  ATHENS,  THOU  ART  BRAVE  !  and  if  a  barbarian  knew 
nothing  of  thy  fame,  that  statue  of  Apollo  yonder, 
would  break  the  silence,  and  relate  to  him  how  the 
youths  leaped  and  wrestled  there,  and  how  they  are  to 
this  day  a  subject  of  astonishment  to  the  Eomans. 

"ATHENS,  THOU   ART  THE   SEAT   OF   SCIENCE,  AND   OP 

WISDOM  !  Thy  Theatre,  thy  Lyceum,  thy  Sculpture- 
Halls,  thy  Academies,  thy  Colonnades  proclaim  it. 

*  The  Parthenon  suffered  the  greatest  devastation,  in  1687,  when  the 
Venetians,  at  the  taking  of  Athens,  threw  a  bomb-shell  into  the  powder- 
magazine  of  the  Acropolis,  by  which  the  roof  of  the  temple  was  blown  into 
the  air.  Still  at  the  present  day,  a  forest  of  magnificent  columns  stands  :  a 
splendid  edifice  over  which  2300  years  have  passed  without  entirely  de- 
stroying it. 

f  Promachos  and  Pallas  are  other  names  for  Minerva.  This  famous  statue 
was  still  standing  in  the  fourth  century,  after  the  departure  of  Alario. 


48  METELLA. 

"Truly  all  thy  monuments  are  leaves  in  this  wondrous 
book,  which  thy  sons  have  written,  to  declare  to  future 
ages,  of  what  greatness  of  mind  mortals  are  capable." 

Whilst  Metella  was  in  this  excitement,  the  sun  had 
moved  nearer  to  the  olive-groves  that  lay  between 
Athens  and  the  sea,  casting  a  rosy  hue  upon  the  thou- 
sand statues  of  the  Acropolis,  as  if  they  were  blushing 
at  the  praises  Metella  had  just  bestowed  upon  them. 

At  this  moment,  Metella's  blooming  son  and  future 
heir  entered  the  pavilion.  He  saluted  his  mother  and 
informed  her,  that  her  slave-master,  Bogus,  had  just 
returned  from  Smyrna;  but  that  he  had  brought  nothing 
she  had  ordered,  except  an  Asiatic  slave.  He  added 
that  Bogus  had  related  wonderful  things  of  Smyrna, 
which  was  almost  entirely  destroyed  by  an  earthquake. 

Metella,  full  of  thought  and  astonishment,  rose  from 
her  couch,  and  leaving  the  pavilion,  sought  Bogus,  for 
further  news  of  Smyrna's  fate ;  with  whom  we  shall  now 
leave  her,  till  we  relate  some  features  of  her  life. 

Metella  was  by  birth  a  Greek,  and  before  her  mar- 
riage, bore  the  name  of  Chrysophora.  She  was  ac- 
quainted from  her  youth  with  all  the  works  of  the 
ancient  writers.  Her  father  was  Atticus,  who  was  born 
at  Marathon,  one  hundred  and  four  years  after  the  birth 
of  Christ,  and  was  one  of  the  greatest  men  of  Greece,  — 
a  famous  orator,  a  Eoman  consul,  then  tutor  to  Marcus 
Aurelius,  and  at  last  Prefect  of  Greece.  Although  this 
celebrated  man  was  such  a  favorite  at  the  court  of  Eome, 
and  could  boast  of  the  personal  friendship  of  the  two 
Antonys,  he  still  remained  thoroughly  Greek,  and 
prided  himself  on  his  noble  birth,  which  he  traced  as 


ME  TELL  A.  49 

far  back  as  Miltiades,  who  conquered  tl-.e  Persians  on 
the  plains  of  Marathon. 

Like  a  true  Greek,  he  strove  to  keep  up  the  renowned 
sports  of  his  country.  The  spectators  assembled  for  the 
Olympic  games  were  often  parched  for  want  of  water, 
and  he  caused  an  aqueduct  to  be  built  for  their  con- 
venience, at  Olympia,  by  which  he  won  the  applause  of 
all  Greece.  In  beautifying  Athens,  Atticus  gained  great 
merit,  but  little  thanks:  the  famous  Odeon  at  the  en- 
trance of  the  Acropolis,  the  ruins  of  which  are  still 
standing,  have  immortalized  his  name.  He  had  also 
the  merit  of  erecting  an  hospital,  and  of  beautifying  the 
Stadium,*  which  accommodated  20,000  people. 

In  Adrian's  time,  there  lived  in  Athens  an  estated 
Roman,  named  Metellus,  a  man  of  noble  descent,  who 
could  trace  his  origin  to  that  Metellus  who  in  the  year 
147  B.  C.  gave  the  death-blow  to  the  freedom  of  Greece. 
He  had  reached  a  middle  age,  and  retired  into  private 
life,  where  he  first  found  time  to  think  of  marriage. 
Whilst  in  Rome,  he  had  told  Atticus,  the  then  consul, 
of  his  desire  to  espouse  his  daughter,  Chrysophora. 
She  was  an  only  child,  for  her  brother  died  young,  and 
her  mother,  Regilla,  soon  followed  him.  The  negotia- 
tions in  this  business  were  attended  with  obstacles  which 
could  not  be  removed  by  the  suitor.  The  young  and 
rich  heiress,  according  to  her  father's  desire,  was  to  give 
the  preference  to  a  son  of  Greece,  to  which  choice  she 
evinced  but  little  inclination,  and  Atticus  was  obliged 
to  take  the  petition  of  the  suitor  into  consideration.  In 
addition  to  this,  both  Metellus  and  Chrysophora  had 

*  Stadium,  where  the  bull-fights  were  held.  , 
5  D 


50  METELLA. 

attained  that  age  recommended  by  Aristotle  for  a  pru- 
dent marriage.* 

Chrysophora  had  been  seldom  in  Athens,  while  her 
father,  whom  she  always  accompanied,  was  generally  in 
active  service.  Metellus  having  for  some  time  sojourned 
chiefly  in  Greece,  had  not  seen  her  since  her  childhood. 

The  circumstance  of  the  betrothed,  not  knowing  each 
other,  although  they  were  shortly  to  be  united,  is  fre- 
quently to  be  met  with  amongst  the  ancients.f 

As  soon  as  the  aged  Atticus  had  signed  the  contract 
for  his  daughter's  marriage,  Metellus  journeyed  at  once 
to  Peloponnesus,  where  Atticus  so  frequently  resided 
towards  the  close  of  his  life,  to  go  through  the  ceremony 
of  the  betrothal.  It  was  early  in  the  morning  when  he 
reached  Elis,  the  longed-for  house ;  and  he  impatiently 
entreated  his  future  father-in-law  to  let  him  have  a  sight 
of  his  bride.  Atticus  excused  her,  as  she  was  still 
occupied  with  her  toilet.  In  fact,  she  had  just  ended 
her  morning  dream,  as  she  was  aroused  by  her  slave, 
who  announced  to  her  the  unexpected  arrival.  Chryso- 
phora wishing  to  appear  in  full  holiday  charms,  ordered 
her  slaves  to  bring  forth  her  costliest  robes,  and  to  seek 
from  her  caskets  the  richest  pearls.  While  one  was 
occupied  in  preparing  the  rouge,  another  was  powdering 
richly  with  gold  dust,  according  to  the  fashion  of  the 
times,  her  raven  hair,  until  it  had  attained  a  reddish 
hue.  A  slave  passed  even  Atticus  without  a  token  of 

*  Aristotle  says,  Vol.  vii.  18,  that  the  woman  should  marry  at  18,  and  the 
man  at  37. 

t  "We  are  allowed  to  try  a  stone  jug  before  we  purchase  it,  but  the  wife 
cannot  be  seen,  lest  she  might  not  please,  before  she  is  taken  home."  Theo- 
phrast  oy.  IJycronym.  Jovim  i.  48. 


METELLA.  51 

respect,  so  great  was  her  haste  in  carrying  to  her  mis- 
tress, sandals  embroidered  with  the  finest  pearls, — a 
sign  that  the  toilet  duties  would  soon  terminate.  But 
as  the  blooming  girl  desired  to  please  still  more  by  her 
natural  charms  than  by  her  ornaments,  she  left  on  the 
renowned  cosmetic  of  bread  and  milk,  with  which  she 
covered  her  face  every  night  before  retiring  to  rest, 
until  her  toilet  was  completed,  contrary  to  the  usual 
custom.  Atticus  concluded,  when  he  saw  the  slave 
carrying  his  daughter's  sandals,  that  the  important  task 
was  finished.  He  then  thought  of  complying  with  the 
earnest  entreaties  of  Metellus,  and  led  him  to  his  daugh- 
ter's chamber. 

Conceive  her  terror,  when  she  heard  loud  steps  upon 
the  stairs !  A  slave  hurried  to  the  door,  to  stop  the  en- 
trance of  the  guest ;  but  he,  driven  on  by  exhausted  pa- 
tience to  see  his  long  chosen  one,  forced  the  slave  aside, 
and  stood  before  the  horror-stricken  Chrysophora.  The 
terrified  slaves,  instead  of  gathering  round  their  mis- 
tress to  screen  her  from  his  view,  concealed  themselves 
in  the  remotest  corners  of  the  room.  There  stood  the 
vain  Chrysophora — gorgeously  attired,  with  the  fatal 
paste  hanging  in  fragments  from  her  lovely  countenance, 
showing  here  and  there  a  strange  contrast  between  the 
delicacy  of  her  complexion  and  the  gray  hue  of  the 
cracked  and  dried-up  cosmetic,  which  stubbornly  ad- 
hered to  the  right  cheek,  to  the  forehead,  and  round  the 
left  eye. 

Her  heaving  bosom  betrayed  the  passion  that  raged 
within.  Her  eyes,  or  rather  eye,  for  the  left  was  half 
concealed  behind  its  casement  of  dried  bread  and  milk, 


52  ME  TELL  A. 

flashed  with  rage.  At  length  her  tongue  found  utter- 
ance, and  her  wounded  pride  sought  consolation  in  de- 
claring, that  she  would  recall  her  promise,  and  break 
the  contract. 

We  see  that  even  in  this  hour  of  dire  humiliation, 
her  woman's  tact  did  not  wholly  desert  her.  She  feared 
that  this  discovery  would  lessen  the  esteem  of  Metellus, 
and  furnish  a  plea  for  breaking  the  contract.  So  she 
took  care,  in  the  midst  of  her  confusion,  to  threaten  the 
dismissal  of  her  lover,  when  she-  thought  he  was  likely 
to  dismiss  her,  and  it  required  all  the  flowery  eloquence 
of  an  Atticus  to  make  clear  to  her  the  folly  of  her  reso- 
lution. 

Metellus'  cool  deliberating  character  took  advantage 
of  the  confusion.  He  enjoyed  a  privilege  which  any 
Roman  would  have  envied,  that  of  seeing  his  bride  be- 
fore marriage,  and  seeing  her  too  in  an  unguarded  mo- 
ment. Her  majestic  form  was  his  beau-ideal  of  perfec- 
tion, and  the  visible  portions  of  her  charming  countenance 
exceeded  his  most  sanguine  expectations ;  so  that,  mak- 
ing every  allowance  for  the  little  ebullition  of  temper 
he  had  just  witnessed,  he  concluded  that  he  had  the 
greatest  reasons  to  congratulate  himself  on  the  choice 
he  had  made.  Having  now  fully  satisfied  his  curiosity, 
he  put  on  an  embarrassed  air,  and  making  an  humble 
apology  for  the  intrusion,  left  his  affianced  lady  to  finish 
her  toilet,  and  to  distribute  due  castigations  amongst  her 
trembling  slaves. 

After  this  dilemma,  the  ceremony  of  the  betrothal 
was  completed  by  Metellus  placing  a  ring  on  the  third 
finger  of  his  future  bride's  left  hand ;  for  the  ancients 


METELLA.  53 

believed  that  a  nerve  passed  from  that  finger  t6  the 
heart. 

A  day  in  the  coming  June  was  decided  on  for  the 
nuptials,  as  that  month  was  regarded  as  the  most  fortu- 
nate of  all  the  year. 

The  haughty  bride  attired  herself  on  that  day,  com- 
mensurate with  her  youth  and  rank,  and  the  solemnity 
of  the  occasion.  She  wore,  according  to  the  custom  of 
the  Greeks,  a  long  white  robe  that  fell  in  rich  folds,  con- 
fined at  the  waist  with  a  woollen  girdle.  Her  feet  were 
provided  with  sandals  brought  from  Morocco.  Her  hair, 
parted  into  six  long  curls,  was  beautifully  interwoven 
with  wreaths  of  flowers ;  and  her  entire  dress  was  com- 
pleted by  a  rose-tinted  veil,  which  fell  gracefully  over 
her  majestic  form. 

The  marriage  ceremony  was  performed  in  her  father's 
house,  at  Elis. 

Sacrifices  were  offered  to  the  goddess  Hera,  and  the 
gall  of  the  victims  was  thrown  away,  as  a  sign  that  all 
bitterness  was  to  be  banished  from  this  union. 

The  marriage  was  confirmed  in  the  presence  of  several 
witnesses,  after  which  the  guests  partook  of  the  wedding- 
feast.  There  was  one  sad  heart  amongt  them — that  of 
the  aged  Atticus.  To  the  left  of  the  table  where  he  sat, 
was  a  cover  for  one,  which  remained  untouched  during 
the  feast :  it  was  that  of  his  departed  son,  whose  place 
at  table,  although  he  had  been  many  years  dead,  re- 
mained unoccupied.  There  is  so  much  that  is  touching 
in  this  trait  of  Atticus'  character,  that  even  the  historian 
Lucius,  who  loved  to  dip  his  arrows  into  the  sour  dregs 
of  Attica  Sarcasm,  here  would  have  refrained  from  it.  A 
5* 


54  METELLA. 

custom  was  still  observed  amongst  the  Romans,  which  de- 
scended from  the  ancients,  who,  as  it  is  known,  robbed  the 
Sabines  of  their  daughters.  Therefore,  in  imitation  of 
this,  the  bride  was  taken  off  during  the  feast.  In  some 
cities  this  custom  is  still  practised.  Young  girls  accom- 
panied the  bride  to  her  chariot,  one  of  whom  carried  a 
distaff,  to  remind  her  that  spinning  and  household  af- 
fairs are  the  proper  portion  of  a  matron. 

The  festivities  commenced  the  following  day,  at  the 
house  of  Metellus,  in  Athens.  The  bride  herself  re- 
ceived presents  from  her  friends,  and  began  to  enter  on 
her  duties  as  mistress  of  the  house.  The  old  Hellenic 
principle  was  also  to  be  observed  by  her :  that  it  was 
for  the  man  to  speak  and  have  authority,  while  the 
woman's  duty  was,  to  devote  herself  to  her  husband  and 
children,  and  to  superintend  the  domestic  arrangements. 

The  bride  now  took  the  name  of  Chrysophora  Attica 
Metella,  or,  for  brevity,  Metella.  But  with  her  name 
she  did  not  lose  her  desire  for  knowledge,  which  she 
had  sought  after  from  her  childhood.  She  knew  how 
to  unite  it,  in  a  fitting  manner,  with  the  duties  of  her 
state. 

Time  spared  Metella's  youthful  charms  but  for  a  few 
years.  Her  beauty  faded,  and  various  misfortunes  told 
her  but  too  soon,  that  man's  life  is  ephemeral,  and  that 
he  cannot  with  certainty  count  on  the  morrow.  Still 
her  desire  to  please  was  nearly  as  ardent  as  before ;  but 
she  sought  to  gratify  it  in  another  form.  As  she  could 
no  longer  boast  of  her  personal  advantages,  she  en- 
deavored, by  the  depth  of  her  knowledge  and  by  great- 
ness of  mind,  to  attract  admiration ;  and  as  riches  came 


METELLA.  55 

«« 

to  her  assistance,  she  soon  had  numerous  friends,  who 
enjoyed  the  luxuries  of  her  table,  and  bestowed  in  re- 
turn, what  to  her  was  more  agreeable,  their  unqualified 
eulogies.  There  was  scarcely  a  lady  in  Athens  so  much 
renowned  for  learning.  She  not  only  read  the  works  of 
all  the  poets  and  philosophers  of  Greece,  but  also  studied 
them  under  the  careful  guidance  of  the  best  masters, 
and  above  all  of  her  renowned  father.  Later  on,  many 
troubles  crossed  her  path:  first,  she  lost  her  beloved 
parent,  who  had  passed  the  remnant  of  his  days  partly 
in  Kephisia,  where  he  possessed  a  magnificent  estate, 
and  partly  in  his  birthplace,  Marathon.  Her  husband 
quickly  followed. 

Lucius,  a  very  talented  and  excellent  youth,  was  the 
only  fruit  of  this  marriage.  He  had  attained  his  fifteenth 
year,  when  he  was  called  on,  according  to  custom,  to  per- 
form the  mosf  melancholy  of  all  filial  duties,  —  to  hold, 
with  averted  face,  the  funeral  torch,  and  set  fire  to  the 
pile  on  which  his  father's  remains  were  to  be  consumed. 
His  mother  deeply  felt  the  loss  of  her  husband,  for 
although  he  had  little  taste  for  learning,  still  it  never 
disturbed  the  harmony  that  existed  between  them. 
Scarcely  a  week  passed  that  the  faithful  wife  did  not  go 
to  the  "  Sacred  Street,"  or  "  Cemetery,"  to  adorn  a  tomb, 
on  which  was  an  inscription  beginning  with  the  words, 
"  Pause,  O  Traveller !  "  —  and  which  covered  the  urn 
that  contained  the  ashes  of  her  lamented  husband. 

These  bitter  blows  of  fortune  proved  fruitful  towards 
the  development-of  her  soul.  From  this  time,  her  former 
longing  to  shine  in  learned  conversations  and  disputes, 


56  METELLA. 

considerably  lessened ;  and  a  strong  desire  awoke  within 
her  to  ornament  her  future  life  through  noble  works  of 
virtue,  which  somehow  seemed  to  her  brighter  and  higher 
in  value  than  learning.  This  great  desire  had  only  lately 
inspired  her  soul.  We  find  here  in  Metella  three  devel- 
opments of  character ;  and  who  does  not  often  discover 
these  changes  through  life  ?  —  First  there  was  the  love 
of  exterior  natural  gifts ;  then  followed  the  love  of  the 
endowments  of  the  mind ;  and  lastly  came  love  of  the 
adornment  of  the  soul; 

Now  let  us  glance  at  the  newly  arrived  travellers. 
We  have  been  informed  that  there  was  a  young  Asiatic 
slave,  just  come  from  Smyrna.  It  is  no  other  than  Sera- 
phica.  In  the  consternation  that  reigned  in  the  harbor 
of  her  native  city,  it  was  not  difficult  for  the  merchant 
of  the  vessel  in  which  she  sought  refuge,  to  claim  her  as 
his  own  property;  and  as  he  had  large  Healings  with 
Metella,  he  made  a  present  of  the  young  stranger  to  his 
rich  customer. 

Metella  had  scarcely  looked  on  Seraphica's  youthful 
and  attractive  form,  than  she  gave  an  approving  nod 
to  the  slave-master,  and  asked  him  her  birthplace.  As 
she  was  born  in  Lydia,  she  was  to  be  called  in  future 
after  her  province,  —  "  Lydia."  The  last  that  Seraphica 
held  as  her  own,  was  her  Christian  name,  and  that  too 
must  vanish.  She  stood  a  stranger  among  strangers,  far 
from  her  native  land,  from  her  kindred,  and  from  her 
companions  in  the  faith ;  —  she  who  now  commands  her 
is  a  heathen.  Nothing  more  then  remained  for  her,  than 
a  look  towards  the  blue  heavens  —  common  to  all,  and 


METELLA.  57 

to  place  her  trust  in  Him  whose  throne  is  beyond  the 
stars.  "For  His  sake  she  had  given  up  all,  and  there- 
fore her  trust  in  Him  was  boundless.  For  He  who 
could  speak  naught  but  truth,  gave  her  the  holy  assur- 
ance, that  she  should  receive  a  hundred-fold  in  this  life, 
and  life  everlasting."  (Matthew  xix.) 


CHAPTER    IV. 

THE    TIROCINIUM. 

'N  the  magnificent  square  near  Adrian's 
Stoa,  the  people  of  Athens  might  be  seen 
crowding  about  a  porphyry  pillar,  on  which 
hung  a  decree,  beginning  with  the  words 
"  Bonum  Factum."  Those  who  stood  near  the 
placard  eould  scarcely  be  induced  to  leave  it ; 
whilst  others  did  their  utmost  to  copy  the 
contents,  and  those  at  a  distance,  though  they 
stood  on  tiptoe,  still  could  not  see  to  read  more  than  the 
two  words,  "Bonum  Factum,"  —  "A  good  deed."  At 
last,  some  who  stood  nearest  to  the  pillar  turned  round 
to  those  at  a  distance,  and  called  out,  "  War  is  publicly 
proclaimed  against  the  barbarians !  " 

Almost  at  the  same  instant,  a  herald  passed  through 
the  square,  and  in  a  voice  of  thunder  announced  the 
Emperor's  declaration  of  war  against  the  people  of  the 
Danube;  and  that  both  Emperors  —  Marcus  Aurelius, 
and  Lucius  Yerus  —  were  to  head  the  armies  in  person. 
Scarcely  had  the  herald  ceased  to  speak,  when  the 
people  expressed  their  unqualified  approbation  by  loud 
and  continued  applause. 

(58) 


THE    TIROCINIUM.  59 

Amongst  those  who  were  thirsting  for  war,  was  the 
youthful  Lucius,  who  still  wore  the  long  Toga  Prsetexta, 
striped  with  purple.  With  glowing  cheeks,  he  hastened 
to  some  companions  of  his  own  age,  to  relate  the  news, 
and  to  consult  on  what  part  they  were  to  take  in  the 
matter. 

At  this  time,  Metella  was  completely  ignorant  of  what 
was  passing  in  the  city.  She  was  at  home,  and  for  pas- 
time, according  to  the  singular  custom  of  noble  ladies 
of  that  day,  had  a  tame  serpent  coiled  round  her  neck, 
and  was  feeding  it  with  crumbs  of  bread,  whilst  with 
her  foot  she  beat  time  to  distant  music. 

At  this  moment  her  copyist  approached  with  a  sheet 
of  news  he  had  just  finished,  and  laid  it  on  her  richly 
chased  silver  table.  "While  she  was  reading  it,  Lucius 
rushed  in  with  flying  Toga :  —  "  Mother !  mother !  have 
you  heard  the  great  news?  "War  against  the  Marco- 
inanui,  and  the  two  Emperors  are  themselves  to  be  in 
action,  and  to  accompany  the  army  to  Aquileia.  And 
all  the  youths  capable  of  wielding  a  sword  are  called  on 
to  make  preparation." 

"  Quietly,  my  son,"  replied  Metella ;  "  you  storm  as  if 
you  were  Mars  himself.  Do  you  not  know  that  the 
Sages  never  repeated  anything  so  often  to  youth,  as. 
'  Not  so  fiery ! '  You  have  left  your  Toga  behind  you : 
pick  it  up." 

"O  how  stupid!"  replied  Lucius:  "but  no  wonder!  I 
have  lost  my  head  as  well  as  my  Toga;  but  the  loss  of  the 
latter  is  a  favorable  omen."  He  lifted  up  the  Toga,  and 
again  approached  his  mother.  "  This  is  exactly  what  I 
would  beg,  that  you  will  allow  me  to  doff  altogether 


60  THE    TIROCINIUM. 

this  Toga  of  the  boy,  and  to  put  on  that  of  the  man." 
And  looking  big  with  importance,  he  drew  himself  up 
to  his  full  height,  and,  with  head  erect,  marched  up  and 
down  the  room,  followed  by  the  eyes  of  his  mother, 
who,  with  maternal  pride,  thought  there  was  only  one 
Lucius  in  the  world.  He  stopped  suddenly  before  her ; 
"  Dear  mother,"  said  he,  "  I  should  like  to  be  a  soldier, 
and  join  the  campaign ;  young  Quintus,  the  Proconsul's 
son,  is  not  older  than  I  am,  and  he  has  just  told  me  that 
he  has  leave  to  go." 

"Quintus'  father  has  other  children;  but  should — 
Metella  lose  her  darling  Lucius,"  she  said,  placing  her 
hand  upon  his  head,  "  she  has  no  one  on  earth  to  love. 
Say,  my  dear  child,  can  you  cause  me  such  anguish  ?  " 

Lucius,  a  little  daunted,  answered  in  a  subdued  tone, 
"  Ah,  mother,  must  then  all  be  killed  who  go  to  the  war  ? 

"  Perhaps,"  said  he,  taking  courage  from  her  silence, 
"I  may  never  meet  with  such  a  chance  again  in  my 
whole  life,  as  to  go  to  war  with  an  Emperor — two  Em- 
perors:— think  only, — two  Emperors,  mother!"  Lu- 
cius saw  that  he  was  gaining  ground,  and  continued, 
"  Do  you  remember  how  as  a  school-boy,  instead  of  writ- 
ing on  my  tablet  the  names  of  great  men,  I  used  to  draw 
little  soldiers.  Don't  you  see  then  that  the  military  pro- 
pensity was  born  with  me  ?  "  Metella  shook  her  head 
with  a  sorrowful  smile. 

"Dear  mother,  you  do  not  expect  me  to  become  a 
Stoic,  an  Academic,  a  Peripatetic,  or  even  an  Epicurean  ? 
— No!  by  the  sacred  oak  of  Dodona,"  shaking  his  head 
jocosely,  and  with  a  hearty  laugh,  "I  have  no  vocation 
for  any  of  these !  I  think  I  see  myself  reflecting  on 


THE    TIROCINIUM.  61 

the  works  of  nature:  staring  at  the  heavens,  with  mouth 
half  open,  and  head  thrown  back  at  the  risk  of  injuring 
my  spine,  and  measuring  distances  between  the  stars !  — 
No! — no  such  tame  occupation  for  me:  that  I  will 
leave  with  pleasure  to  the  philosophers  and  astrono- 
mers. I  never  see  the  tombs  of  the  heroes  at  Keramei- 
kos  without  envying  their  immortal  fame.  For  the 
future,  I  shall  be  like  Themistocles,  who  could  not  sleep 
at  night  for  thinking  of  the  fame  of  Miltiades.  My 
grandfather,  Atticus,  often  related  how  he  was  descended 
from,  the  great  Miltiades ;  and  you,  dear  mother,  have 
assured  me  of  the  same  a  hundred  times.  Do  you  re- 
member what  my  father  said  to  me  on  his  deathbed  : 
'When  thou  becomest  a  man,  be  faithful  to  the  Emperor 
till  death'?" 

"  0  yes  !  but  he  quickly  added, — '  and  obey  your 
mother.' " 

"But,  mother,  you  know  the  campaign  will  not  start 
this  Autumn — not  till  the  coming  Spring.  By  that 
time,  you  will  be  able  to  reconcile  yourself  with  your 
son  gaining  a  few  leaves  from  the  laurels  of  his  immor- 
tal ancestor  Miltiades.  But  if  I  am  to  join  in  the 
Spring,  I  must  certainly  get  my  white  Toga  now,  and 
go  through  the  exercises,  the  whole  Winter,  in  the  field 
of  Mars.  Therefore,  dear — dear  mother,  the  Toga  Vi- 
rilis!  I  beseech  you  to  say,  yes!  Yes,  mother,  the 
man's  Toga!  Think  only — I'm  seventeen!" 

"Patience,  patience,  my  son;  you  shall  have  your 
man's  Toga  at  the  proper  time." 

"But  now,  dear  mother, — not  when  the  others  are 
gone  ?  " 


62  THE    TIROCINIUM. 

"No,  no." 

"Therefoie,  may  I  go  to  the  wars? — may  I,  dear 
mother  ?  " 

"  Well,  then,  if  you  believe  that  this  will  secure  your 
happiness,  my  dear  son  let  it  be  so.  Go,  and  may  the 
gods  protect  you ! " — 

At  these  words,  the  afflicted  mother  tenderly  embraced 
her  son,  saying,  "  Eemain  always  my  child,  as  long  as  I 
remain  thy  mother,  and  I  trust  thou  wilt  ever  be  a  good 
one,  and  well-pleasing  to  the  gods." 

The  joy  of  Lucius  knew  no  bounds.  He  saw  himself 
in  spirit  a  Freeman  of  Athens,  and  one  of  its  bravest 
warriors ;  and  could  scarcely  await  the  day  on  which  he 
was  to  stand  before  the  Proconsul,  and  receive  from  his 
hand  the  manly  Toga. 

"Mother,"  said  he,  "don't  you  think  that  in  eight 
days  it  will  be  time  to  change  the  Toga  ?  Until  then 
I  '11  conduct  myself  right  well." 

Metella  laughed  at  this  acknowledgment,  and  ordered 
a  calendar  to  be  brought,  that  she  might  sec  what  festi- 
val was  to  be  expected  in  Autumn.  She  found  that  the 
festival  of  the  siege  of  Troy  would  be  celebrated  on  the 
15th  of  October.  "That  is  for  a  second  Achilles  just 
the  very  day,"  added  the  mother,  jestingly.  "  On  that 
day  you  shall  become  a  recruit." 

"On  the  15th  of  October,"  exclaimed  Lucius,  "that 
will  be  an  important  day !  True,  there  are  several  weeks 
till  then,  but  the  15th  of  October  will  be  a  magnificent 
day! — That  will  be  a  day  of  rejoicing!"  So  said  the 
fiery  youth.  "Now  I  must  hasten  to  Quintus. —  Fare- 
well, my  own  dear  mother,  farewell ; "  and  in  a  moment 
he  was  out  of  sitrht. 


THE    TIROCINIUM.  63 

Metella  studied  how  she  could  make  this  festival, 
called  Tirocinium,  sufficiently  important,  that  it  would 
leave  an  indelible  impression  on  the  mind  of  her  son ; 
and  she  resolved  on  asking  the  Proconsul  to  make  his 
address  of  exhortation  for  the  occasion  most  impressive 
and  affecting.  She  next  remembered — all  the  friends 
she  would  have  to  invite,  not  one  of  whom  she  dared  to 
forget. 

The  Tirocinium  of  the  ancients  was  a  festival  which 
made  a  deep  impression  on  every  youth.  It  was  in- 
tended to  celebrate  the  transition  from  youth  to  man- 
hood. In  a  solemn  public  address  they  were  exhorted 
to  fulfil  the  duties  of  thoroughly  good  citizens.  The 
great  deeds  of  their  ancestors  were  set  before  them ;  and 
if  their  forefathers  were  not  renowned,  they  were  re- 
minded of  the  virtues  of  their  nation.  When  it  happened 
that  some  citizen  was  brought  to  justice  on  account  of  a 
misdemeanor,  the  judge  took  care  to  remind  him  forcibly 
of  the  resolutions  and  promises  he  had  made  at  his  Tiro- 
cinium. 

"We  shall  now  see  how  the  young  Lucius  celebrated 
this  feast.  A  number  of  the  noblest  youths  of  Athens 
were  summoned  to  appear  before  the  Proconsul.  All 
Metella's  friends  and  relations  were  already  assembled 
in  the  palace,  but  the  lady  of  the  house  and  her  son,  for 
whom  the  feast  was  given,  were  not  yet  visible,  for  they 
were  still  in  the  Lararium  or  temple  of  the  household 
gods;  where  Lucius  might  be  seen  standing  with  out- 
stretched arms,  in  fervent  supplication  imploring  a  bless- 
ing on  his  future  life.  During  a  solemn  prayer  dictated 
to  him  by  the  priest,  he  vowed  to  the  gods  to  treasure 


64  THE    TIROCINIUM. 

virtue  above  all  things,  and  to  hate  vice.  Then  full  of 
awe,  he  touched  the  knees  of  the  statue,  turned  himself 
round  to  the  right,  and  remained  again  standing  before 
the  divinity.  His  mother  prayed  by  his  side  in  silence. 
She  wrote  down  on  a  waxen  tablet,  a  promise  to  the 
divinity,  that,  if  her  son  lived  to  return  from  the  wars, 
she  would  offer  to  the  gods  the  spring  produce  of  all  the 
herds  on  her  estates.  Her  prayer  ended,  the  wine-offer- 
ings commenced.  —  The  fire  burned  on  the  small  marble 
altar ;  the  youth  seized  a  golden  cup,  and  filling  it  with 
wine  from  the  sacrificial  vessel,  cast  a  portion  into  the 
flames;  the  remainder  he  poured  at  the  feet  of  the 
divinity.  He  then  placed  a  cake  upon  the  altar,  and 
whilst  it  was  burning,  he  strewed  the  choicest  incense 
from  Arabia  on  the  flames,  which  diffused  a  delightful 
perfume  through  the  whole  sanctuary. 

The  mother  then  advanced  towards  her  son,  and  took 
from  his  neck  the  golden  amulet,  placed  there  by  his 
father  at  his  birth,  and  which  was  meant  to  keep  him  in 
constant  remembrance  of  filial  obedience,  and  to  serve 
as  a  preventive  against  danger  and  certain  diseases. 
Metella  placed  it  as  an  offering  at  the  feet  of  the  divinity. 
Lucius,  still  dressed  in  his  Praetexta,  with  a  cheerful 
countenance,  left  the  Temple,  and  joined  his  friends,  who 
were  anxiously  awaiting  him.  After  having  received 
congratulations  on  all  sides,  and  covered  with  a  thousand 
blessings,  he  was  numerously  attended  on  his  way  to  the 
Proconsul. 

At  this  period  the  Athenians  no  longer  held  their 
usual  assemblies,  as  at  the  time  of  the  Eepublic,  outside 
on  the  Pnyxhill,  rich  in  historical  memories,  and  which 


TEE    TIROCINIUM.  65 

was  celebrated  by  the  renowned  orators,  but  in  the  thea- 
tre of  Dionysius,  *  where  many  youths  were  now  assem- 
bled awaiting  the  Proconsul,  to  receive  the  Toga  Virilis. 
At  last  he  appeared  and  seated  himself,  when  one  youth 
after  another,  accompanied  by  his  friends,  advanced 
towards  him,  laid  down  his  Prsetexta,  and  received  from 
his  hands  the  Toga  Virilis,  which  was  of  white,  bordered 
with  purple. 

The  Proconsul  exhorted  each  one  separately  on  the 
signification  of  doffing  the  Toga.  "The  purple  stripes 
of  the  boy's  Toga,"  said  he  to  them,  "have  always  re- 
minded you,  during  your  boyhood,  that  you  were  to  lead 
such  a  life,  that,  when  you  became  men,  you  might 
deserve  to  wear  the  purple-bordered  Toga,  as  a  sign  of 
higher  service  in  the  state.  You  must  also  never  forget 
•  that  you  are  the  descendants  of  those  renowned  Greeks 
who  delivered  their  native  country  from  the  hands  of 
the  Persians."  After  the  duties  of  a  citizen  had  been 
impressed  on  the  minds  of  the  youths  by  a  most  eloquent 
address,  they  were  then  surrounded  by  their  friends,  who 
vied  with  each  other  in  offering  them  their  congratula- 
tions. Lucius  with  his  friends  ascended  the  heights  of 
the  Acropolis,  there  to  recommend  himself  to  the  pro- 
tection of  Pallas.  The  Cella  of  the  Temple  was  open, 
and  they  devoutly  approached  the  Prostyhon,  the  so- 
called  Sanctorum,  the  vaulted  roof  of  which  was  painted 
blue,  and  studded  with  stars ;  this  was  a  portion  of  the 

*  To  this  day,  the  high  and  beautifully  finished  orators'  stone,  upon  which 
men  like  Demosthenes  stood,  as  well  as  a  great  number  of  Amphitheatrical 
stone  seats,  are  yet  to  be  seen  on  the  Pnyxhill.     The  Forum  in  Rome  scarcely 
affords  more  interest  than  this  place  of  assembly  of  the  people  of  Athens. 
6*  E 


66  THE    TIROCINIUM. 

temple  set  apart  for  the  most  solemn  rites  of  their  wor- 
ship. Here  stood  in  all  her  imposing  splendor,  and  ele- 
vated to  a  considerable  height,  the  ancient  and  renowned 
statue  of  Pallas,  covered  with  immeasurable  quantities 
of  gold  and  ivory.  The  devoutly  inclined  prayed  before 
her  with  great  fervor,  while  the  less  devout  feasted  their 
eyes  on  the  magnificent  statue,  the  masterpiece  of  the 
celebrated  Phidias,  and  then  on  the  elaborately  chased 
golden  lamp  that  hung  before  the  goddess.* 

Lucius,  on  his  way  home,  looked  every  now  and  then 
with  particular  complacency  on  his  Toga  Virilis,  and 
smiled  upon  his  friends  for  approbation,  who  gravely 
assured  him,  that  he  had  already  quite  the  appearance 
of  a  citizen,  which  he  was  too  modest  to  acknowledge, 
but  did^really  think  so. 

"A  beautiful  feast,"  said  he  to  them,  as  he  descended 
the  superb  marble  steps  of  the  Temple ;  "  but  there  is 
one  thing  I  felt  keenly  as  I  invoked  the  goddess,  pro- 
tectress of  Greece.  The  Greek  youths  must  submit  to 
be  invested  by  a  Roman  magistrate,  fight  under  the  no- 
bles of  Eome,  and  accept  an  Emperor  who  looks  upon 
Greece  as  a.  province,  and  calls  her  Acacia. 

"It  was  otherwise  in  former  times!  O  that  it  were 
still  so !  If  my  grandfather  were  now  living,  he  would 
speak  to-day,  at  table,  of  nothing  but  the  Field  Generals 
of  ancient  Hellene.  How  would  my  mother  rejoice,  if 

*  Pausanius,  the  disciple  of  Herodus  Atticus,  in  his  description  of  Greece, 
I.  26,  says :  "  Kollimachus  completed  a  golden  lamp  for  the  goddess,  which 
contained  sufficient  oil  for  a  year,  although  the  lamp  burned  day  and  night. 
The  wick  was  made  of  Spanish  flax,  which  has  the  quality  of  not  being  con- 
sumed by  fire.  Over  the  lamp  arose  a  bronze  palm  which  reached  the  vaulted 
ceiling,  attracted  the  smoke  upwards  and  then  dispersed  it." 


THE    TIROCINIUM.  67 

she  were  to  see  the  ancient  Hellenes  arise !  That  was 
the  reason,  without  doubt,  that  she  looked  so  sorrowful 
to-day,  when  we  parted  with  her  previous  to  our  enter- 
ing the  Theatre  of  Dionysius." 

But  these  serious  thoughts  quickly  vanished,  for 
Metella  met  and  welcomed  them  cheerfully ;  and  after  a 
repeated  exhortation  to  the  son  of  her  heart,  she  ordered 
the  attendants  to  announce  that  the  feast  was  prepared. 
The  guests  presented  Lucius  with  many  rich  gifts,  after 
which  they  sat  down  to  table,  where  nothing  failed  in 
either  delicacies  or  amusements.  There  were  jesters, 
jugglers,  and  musicians,  each  contributing  his  mite  to 
the  general  hilarity.  Here  might  be  seen  the  difference 
between  Grecian  and  Roman  enjoyment.  The  Greeks 
found  the  noise  and  jesting  incompatible  with  the  cus- 
toms of  their  nation ;  whilst  the  Romans,  poorer  in  their 
intellect  than  in  their  sensual  appetite,  found  in  this 
amusement,  and  in  feasting,  the  highest  entertainment. 
Many  of  them  would  have  been  perfectly  contented,  to 
use  Lucian's  words,  to  eat  undisturbed  a  sucking-pig 
and  sweet  cakes,  and  in  place  of  learned  conversation, 
sink  their  heads,  heavy  with  wine,  upon  the  cup  they 
were  holding. 

From  this  time  forward  Lucius  attached  himself  to 
distinguished  men,  who  were  well  versed  in  the  art  of 
war,  and  who  exerted  themselves  in  training  their  client 
as  a  first-rate  soldier.  He  performed  his  military  exer- 
cises every  day  in  the  field  of  Mars,  full  of  burning 
desire  to  face  the  enemy,  and  to  tread  in  the  renowned 
footsteps  of  the  great  Miltiades. 


CHAPTER    V. 
THE   HAIR   BODKIN. 

OME  months  "had  now  passed  since  Ljdia 
had  entered  Metella's  service  as  a  poor 
slave.  Slavery  was  to  her  as  a  wilderness, 
•that  stretched  its  parched  surface  under  the 
scorching  rays  of  the  sun,  far  beyond  where 
the  eye  can  reach.  But  as  once,  in  olden 
times,  the  pious  Ruth  wandered  alone  over 
the  stubble-fields  of  Booz,  gleaning  after  the  harvest,  so 
Lydia  wanders  over  her  wilderness,  carefully  endeavor- 
ing to  garner  up  the  fruits  of  good  works.  The  charac- 
ter of  Metella  was  just  one  that  gave  her  sufficient  op- 
portunity to  practise  self-denial ;  for  those  who  appear 
so  amiable  and  courteous  to  guests  and  friends,  are 
often  severe  and  cruel  tyrants  towards  their  dependants. 
We  shall  soon  be  acquainted  with  Metella's  private 
character. 

Lucius  had  just  been  called  to  the  field  of  Mars,  to 
take  part  in  a  greater  display  than  usual  of  military 
tactics.  In  passing  by  his  mother,  he  greets  her  affec- 
tionately, and  begs  of  her  to  witness  the  field  exercises 
from  a  neighboring  building.  He  had  scarcely  left  the 

(68) 


THE    HAIR    BODKIN.  69 

house,  when  an  invitation  arrived  from  the  Proconsul, 
inviting  Metella  to  join  some  guests  who  were  to 
meet  the  generals  at  his  house,  after  the  exercises  of 
the  day. 

Metella  called  a  domestic,  and  as  no  one  heard  her, 
she  whistled*  for  a  slave  outside  to  enter.  She  then 
gave  orders  to  have  fitting  attire  prepared  for  her,  and 
to  arrange  her  best  jewels ;  for  the  Proconsul,  according 
to  Lucian,  was  a  man  that  paid  great  attention  to  exte- 
rior ornaments. 

With  flying  steps,  Arpis,  the  head-mistress  of  Metel- 
la's  personal  attendants,  hastened  to  her  lady's  dressing- 
room,  and  brought  forth  a  white  tunic  of  the  finest 
Milesian  wool.  The  first  had  short  sleeves,  which 
merely  covered  the  upper  part  of  the  arm,  and  were 
slit  up  the  middle  and  fastened  with  golden  clasps,  ac- 
cording to  the  old  Doric  style.  The  neck  and  skirt  of 
the  shorter  tunic  were  trimmed  with  a  stripe  of  double- 
dyed  Sidonian  purple, — a  distinction  allowed  only  to 
matrons  of  noble  birth.  That  part  of  the  under-tunic 
which  appeared  below  the  knee,  fell  to  the  ground  in 
ample  folds,  and  was  terminated  by  a  rich  fringe.  Arpis 
was  at  great  pains  in  providing  her  lady's  dress ;  and 
with  wonderful  dexterity  she  raised  it  on  a  stand,  and 
fastening  the  white  girdle  round  the  waist,  saw  that  the 
tunic  hung  over  the  cincture  in  graceful  folds. 

A  second  slave  exerted  herself  in  arranging  the  head- 
dress, and  fastening  the  diadem,  under  which  the  hair 
was  to  fall  in  light  ringlets  on  the  temples.  A  magnifi- 
cent bodkin  of  chased  gold,  surmounted  with  a  figure 

*  A  custom  in  those  days.    Origcn  greatly  disapproved  of  it  for  Christians. 


70  THE   HAIR    BODKIN. 

of  Iris  in  carved  ivory,  completed  the  head-dress ;  but 
it  was  not  added  till  the  toilet  was  completed.  The 
bodkin  was  a  much  admired  piece  of  workmanship  of 
an  ancient  sculptor :  the  figure  measured  four  inches,  and 
was  finished  in  all  its  parts  with  the  choicest  and  most 
elaborate  carving ;  it  could  be  screwed  off,  and  replaced 
by  another,  according  to  fancy.  With  a  reverential  awe 
she  placed  the  precious  bodkin  on  the  toilet-table.  She 
had  good  reason  for  doing  it  with  all  possible  care ;  for 
on  one  of  the  gold  chains  called  Cathedra,  which  ran 
round  the  upper  part  of  the  dressing-chair,  was  a  whip 
of  plaited  wire,  which,  when  occasion  required,  was 
quickly  brought  into  action. '  It  was  just  as  though 
Juvenal  had  Metella  in  his  eye,  when  he  wrote  on  the 
Cruelty  of  Matrons  to  their  Slaves. 

"Poor  Psecas  decks  her  head,*  herself  in  tears, 
And  her  own  locks  all  dangling  round  her  ears, 
Her  neck  uncovered,  and  her  shoulders  bare  ; 
Not  saved  from  vengeance  by  her  utmost  care. 
'Why  is  this  lock,'  the  mistress  storms,  'too  high?' 
Poor  girl  she  rues  the  crime ;  one  hair 's  awry! 
What's  Psecas'  fault?  is  she  to  feel  your  blows, 
If  't  is  your  will  to  quarrel  with  your  nose  ?  " 

—  JUVENAL,  Sat.  VI. 

Lydia  brought  the  shoes,  and  then  arranged  some  of 
the  folds  of  her  mistress'  dress.  Metella,  according  to 
the  fashion  of  the  day,  used  paints,  and  ordered  an  oval 
mirror  to  be  placed  before  her,  so  that  she  might 
improve  and  soften  off  with  a  hair-pencil,  what  her 
maid  had  begun  in  rougeing  as  well  as  in  the  shading 

*  ( Her  mistress"  R.  P.) 


THE   HAIR    BODKIN.  71 

of  her  eyebrows.  It  suddenly  occurred  to  Her  that  she 
had  a  still  deeper  black,  which  could  be  used  with  a 
greater  effect ;  and  as  there  was  not  much  time  to  be 
lost,  she  called  Lydia  hastily  to  bring  it.  The  order 
was  scarcely  given,  when  the  unhappy  slave,  in  turning 
suddenly  round  to  fulfil  the  command,  knocked  against 
the  toilet-table,  and  the  bodkin  rolled,  fell,  and  lay  on 
the  floor  in  pieces.  The  unfortunate  slave  had  not  time 
to  utter  a  word,  before  her  mistress,  inflamed  with  an- 
ger, sprung  from  her  chair,  and  in  a  state  of  frenzy, 
pounced,  like  a  beast  of  prey,  on  the  terrified  Lydia, 
and  stuck  her  long  pointed  nails  into  her  arm.  She 
then  with  abusive  words  seized  the  whip,  and  swinging 
the  metal  knots  in  the  air  to  give  her  blows  greater 
force,  struck  the  poor  slave  lying  at  her  feet  most  un- 
mercifully, till  she  was  covered  with  blood.  Her  groans 
excited  no  pity,  and  she  was  carried  insensible  from  the 
apartment.  The  lady  continued  to  storm,  and  even  the 
slaves  who  were  present  could  not  find  sufficient  words 
to  express  the  full  extent  of  the  offence.  But  to  ap- 
pease their  infuriated  mistress,  they  out- vied  each  other 
in  bestowing  a  volume  of  praises  on  the  magnificence 
of  her  attire,  and  the  gracefulness  of  her  slender  form. 
Such  flattery  never  failed  to  pacify  her. 

The  toilet  finished,  nothing  more  remained  to  be  done 
but  to  throw  around  her  the  light  white  mantle,  which 
hung  in  graceful  folds  over  her  left  arm,  and  reached 
the  ground, 

All  this  time,  six  powerful  Syrian  slaves  were  waiting 
for  her  in  the  vestibule,  with  a  long  and  easy  sedan. 

The  ancients  found  it  ntere  agreeable  to  have  them- 


72  THE   HAIR    BODKIN. 

selves  carried  in  a  litter  on  men's  shoulders,  than  to  be 
drawn  by  horses  through  clouds  of  dust.  In  addition 
to  this,  the  streets  of  all  the  cities  in  the  south  were  so 
narrow,  that  carriages  were  nearly  useless.  Those  nar- 
row streets  were,  notwithstanding,  most  advantageous, 
as  they  afforded  a  cool  shelter  from  the  sun  nearly  the 
entire  day. 

Metella's  sedan  was  made  of  finely  polished  citron 
wood,  on  the  upper  part  of  which  were  two  poles  drawn 
through,  for  the  convenience  of  the  bearers.  The  in- 
terior, lined  with  costly  stuff,  was  sufficiently  large  for 
reclining,  and  was  provided  with  rich  cushions  and  a 
footstool. 

The  lady  descended  from  her  toilet  to  the  sedan,  and 
on  her  way  through  the  vestibule,  her  roguish  parrot  in 
his  ivory  cage  greeted  her  with  his  well-conned  speech 
of  flattery. 

A  boy  placed  a  footstool  before  the  sedan,  while  the 
waiting-maids,  arranged  in  a  double  row,  with  their 
arms  crossed  on  their  breasts,  bowed  her  off,  with  all 
reverence  and  with  no  small  pleasure.  Metella  folded 
her  highly  perfumed  mantle  round  her,  motioned  for 
her  little  Maltese  dog  to  be  brought  to  her,  which  she 
half  covered  with  her  mantle,  remarking  with  a  smile 
that  her  little  favorite  has  a  cold,  and  sneezes  often. 
Metella  petted  her  little  darling,  and  tantalized  him  with 
her  golden  bracelet.  She  reclined  in  the  sedan,  so  that 
she  could  remain  unseen  by  those  whom  she  wished  to 
avoid  saluting. 

The  lady  has  taken  her  departure,  and  it  is  now  time 
to  inquire  after  poor  Lydia*  She  was  in  her  little  room, 


THE   HAIR    BODKIN.  73 

resting  on  a  cushion.  Ophne,  her  assistant  in  the 
shoe  department,  hastened  to  wash  the  wounds  of  her 
maltreated  friend,  and  to  give  her  all  the  comfort  in  her 
power.  She  expressed  the  greatest  pity,  and  assured 
her,  that  sjae  had  herself  often  been  made  to  feel  the 
effects  of  the  whip.  She  then  began  to  relate  Metella's 
cruelty  in  former  times,  and  seemed  to  find  a  consola- 
tion in  doing  so.  Lydia  listened  for  a  few  minutes,  and 
interrupted  her,  saying,  "  This  time,  dear  sister,  our 
good  lady  had  cause  to  be  displeased.  Think  only  of 
my  awkwardness  whereby  this  disaster  happened,  and 
then  of  the  loss  she  has  sustained.  We  must  be  just, 
Ophne,  and  keep  in  mind,  the  good  qualities  of  our  mis- 
tress. Think  of  the  discipline  and  order  she  observes 
in  her  house;  the  many  blessings  she  bestows  on  the 
poor ;  and  the  religious  duties  she  performs  so  conscien- 
tiously every  day."'  Ophne  was  astounded  at  hearing 
such  words  from  Lydia,  and  at  such  a  moment.  "Those 
are  praises,"  said  she,  "  that  we  never  bestow  on  our 
mistress,  unless  in  her  presence.  When  she  is  absent, 
we  relate  to  each  other  her  bad  qualities.  But  I  have 
remarked  that  you  never  flatter  her ;  on  the  contrary, 
what  you  say  sounds  more  like  blame.  But  one  thing  you 
must  acknowledge  sincerely :  is  it  not  true  that  you  feel 
rather  stormy  within,  whenever  you  think  of  her  cruelty, 
and  that  you  will  never  forgive  it."  "In  a  certain  sense, 
dear  Ophne,  you  are  right.  I  have  never  to  forgive 
anything,  because  I  never  feel  myself  offended."  Ophne 
reflected  for  a  moment,  and  repeated  the  words  to  her- 
self, "I  have  nothing  to  forgive,  because  I  never  feel 
myself  offended."  She  could  not  understand  how  a 


74  THE   HAIR    BODKIN. 

poor  ill-treated  servant,  who  dares  have  DO  other  revenge 
than  that  of  the  heart,  could  resign  that  also.  She  was 
far  from  suspecting  that  the  man  who  bears  patiently* 
in  faith  and  hope,  suffers  also  with  a  holy  love.  But 
she  resolved  that  she  would,  wnile  on  her  •  way  to  the 
currier's  shop,  where  she  was  just  going,  reflect  on  the 
sentiments  she  had  heard.  Turning  to  her  fellow-slave, 
she  gave  her  a  hearty  kiss  on  the  cheek,  and  said,  "You 
gentle  lamb,  give  me  some  remedies  that  will  help  me 
to  conquer  my  anger :  I  should  wish  to  be  like  you  ex- 
actly in  this  respect." 

"For  a  Christian  there  are  many  remedies:  first,  the 
clear  knowledge  of  one's  own,  imperfections;  secondly, 
meditation  on  the  sufferings  of  our  Eedeemer;  and 
thirdly,  forbearance  and  indulgence  towards  the  errors 
of  our  neighbor." 

"No,  my  dear,  I  do  not  want  remedies  for  a  Christian, 
but  for  a  heathen  such  as  I  am." 

"  I  heard  once,"  replied  Lydia,  with  a  smile,  "  that  a 
certain  philosopher,  who  was  much  given  to  anger,  de- 
termined on  carrying  about  him  a  mirror,  so  that  when 
anger  darkened  and  distorted  his  features,  he  might  be- 
hold in  it  their  ugliness,  and  thereby  conclude  upon  the 
far  greater  deformity  of  the  interior. 

"  One  word  more,  Ophne ;  does  not  the  currier  to 
whom  you  are  now  going,  sell  sheets  of  parchment? 
Pray  be  kind  enough  to  bring  me  a  few." 

'What  has  a  sandal-maid  to  do  with  parchment," 
said  Ophne,  "  and  where  shall  I  get  the  money  to  pur- 
chase it?" 

"  What  I  want  with  the  parchment,  dear  child,  I  can- 


THE   HAIR    BODKIN.  75 

not  tell  you,  but  in  any  case  I  can  give  you  the  money 
for  it.  I  have  a  few  pieces  of  gold  which  my  mother 
gave  me  when  I  was  a  captive  in  Smyrna,  probably 
thinking  that  thereby  I  might  be  able  to  purchase  a 
little  civility  from  the  jailer.  I  did  not  avail  myself  of 
it,  but  kept  the  money  secreted  in  my  dress,  and  brought 
it  with  me  to  Athens."  Lydia  placed  it  in  Ophne's 
hand. 

"  But  you  must  tell  me,"  said  Ophne,  "  what  you  are 
going  to  do  with  the  parchment.  If  you  don't,  I  assure 
you  I'll  come  back  empty-handed.  I  always  looked 
upon  you  as  my  dearest  companion  in  misery,  and  to  a 
prudent  friend  you  may  say  anything." 

"Well  then,"  said  Lydia,  "if  it  must  be  so,  I'll  tell 
you. 

"  Our  mistress  asked  me  lately,  when  I  told  her  that  I 
was  a  Christian,  if  I  could  not  procure  for  her  the 
famous  defence  written  by  the  Christian  philosopher 
Justin,  and  delivered  to  the  Emperor  Antoninus  Pius. 
I  have  in  the  mean  time,  through  the  kindness  of  our 
Bishop  Quadratus,  received  the  writing.  And  now  I 
should  like  to  copy  it,  and  surprise  Metella  with  it  on 
her  approaching  birthday.  She  does  not  know  that  I 
am  a  calligraphist,  and  her  joy  will  perhaps  be  the 
greater  when  she  finds  the  roll  in  her  library.  And 
now,  child,  you  know  all ;  go  and  bring  me  the  parch- 
ment." Ophne  stood  before  her  fellow-slave  as  if  trans- 
fixed by  enchantment.  With  a  gentle  pressure  of  the 
hand,  she  gave  her  to  understand,  on  leaving  the  room, 
how  clearly  she  had  seen  into  the  depths  of  her  heart. 

But  a  sweet  feeling  of  heavenly  enjoyment,  such  as  the 


76  THE    HAIR    BODKIN. 

good  alone  experience  when  they  have  performed  a 
generous  deed,  flowed  through  Lydia's  soul.  It  ap- 
peared to  her  as  though  a  divine  voice  whispered  to  her, 
'•'  This  time  thou  hast  acted  well,  for  when  I  was  fastened 
to  the  cross,  I  prayed  for  my  executioners;  I  com- 
manded my  disciples  to  love  their  enemies,  to  do  good 
to  them  that  hated  them,  and  to  pray  for  those  who  per- 
secuted and  calumniated  them." 

Lydia  had  often  heard  this  very  exhortation  from  the 
lips  of  her  holy  bishop,  St.  Polycarp,  who  wrote  the 
same  in  a  letter  to  the  Philippians:  —  "We  cannot  rise 
with  Christ  if  we  do  not  avoid  rendering  evil  for  evil ; 
on  the  contrary,  we  must  show  mercy,  that  God  may 
show  mercy  unto  us." 

Ophne  has  returned  and  brought  the  parchment  with 
her.  Lydia  commences  to  arrange  the  sheets,  draws  the 
line  for  writing,  takes  the  instrument  in  her  practised 
hand,  and  copies  the  address,  "Sent  to  the  Emperor 
Adrian."  She  hoped  to  be  able  to  bring  in  Justin's  de- 
fence on  a  few  rolls,  and  was  lost  in  admiration,  as  she 
proceeded,  at  the  beauty  of  thought,  and  the  clearness, 
with  which  the  mysteries  of  the  Christian  doctrine  were 
explained.  She  rejoiced  at  the  favorable  impression 
which  the  writing  was  likely  to  produce  on  the  mind  of 
her  mistress.  She  found  herself  unable  to  write  more 
than  the  superscription,  as  her  hand  trembled  violently 
at  every  letter,  and  in  addition  the  night  was  far 
advanced. 

Laying  down  her  iron  style,*  her  mind  reverted  to 
the  actions  of  the  day  just  at  an  end.  Now  and  then 

*  The  pen  of  that  time. 


THE    HAIR    BODKIN.  77 

she  cast  her  eyes  upon  the  simple  cross  which  hung  in 
her  room,  and  was  tastefully  encircled  with  the  girdle 
of  St.  Polycarp,  with  which  her  hands  had  been  bound 
when  she  was  taken  captive  in  the  Amphitheatre  of 
Smyrna.  She  knelt  down  before  the  sign  of  her  cruci- 
fied Eedeemer ;  for  she  had  much  to  say  to  Him  ere  she 
completed  the  duties  of  the  day.  With  what  delight 
did  she  fulfil  the  mandate  of  our  Lord:  to  pray  for 
those  through  whom  she  had  become  one  merit  the 
richer!  "Accept,  O  God!  the  little  affliction  of  this 
day,  as  if  my  dear  mistress  had  suffered  it  for  the  love 
of  Thee.  If  my  patience  were  agreeable  to  Thee,  do 
not  ascribe  this  little  merit  to  me,  but  to  her.  And 
should  she  ever  deserve  thy  anger,  then,  O  Lord!  punish 
not  her  but  me.  I  offer  up  myself  for  her.  One  grace 
grant  unto  her,  O  Lord!  —  the  grace  of  knowing  and 
loving  Thee,  our  Lord  and  Saviour,  Jesus  Christ." 

While  she  was  thus  praying,  she  did  not  perceive  that 
a  hand  had  drawn  aside  the  curtain  which  concealed  the 
door  of  her  room, — a  few  minutes,  and  it  was  again 
closed  softly,  unheard  by  Lydia,  and  Metella  passed 
noiselessly  along  the  corridor. 

During  the  entire  time  of  the  military  exercises,  and 
the  evening  entertainment,  Metella  was  greatly  discon- 
tented with  herself.  The  remembrance  of  her  cruelty 
towards  her  poor  slave  pressed  heavily  on  her  soul ;  and 
it  appeared  impossible  for  her  to  retire  to  rest  without 
finding  some  excuse  to  say  a  friendly  word  to  the  ill- 
treated  one 

But  as  she  found  Lydia  on  her  knees,  pouring  out  her 
griefs  to  her  God,  she  was  seized  with  a  holy  awe,  and 
7* 


78  THE   HAIR    BODKIN. 

departed  without  uttering  a  sound.  She  withdrew  into 
her  private  sanctuary,  there  to  be  reconciled  to  her  of- 
fended deity  for  her  conduct ;  and  lighting  some  frank- 
incense, she  strewed  it  at  the  feet  of  the  statue,  and 
intermingled  the  action  with  penitential  prayers.  She 
pressed  her  forehead  glowing  with  shame  to  the  feet  of 
the  statue ;  but  the  cold  goddess  seemed  to  recede  from 
her :  the  sculptured  form  had  neither  heart  nor  consola- 
tion for  the  oppressed  suppliant.  The  poor  heathen, 
with  a  heart  full  of  contrition,  resolved  on  performing 
an  especial  act  expressing  the  deepest  compunction, — 
such  an  act  which  we  never  meet  with  in  succeeding 
centuries,  and  which  had  something  in  it  most  humiliat- 
ing. She  bent  her  head  and  spat  three  times  into  her 
bosom.  Then  she  arose,  and  retired  to  her  chamber.* 

This  was  a  penance  amongst  the  heathens,  which  had 
its  foundation  in  the  idea  of  showing  themselves  before 
the  divinity  in  the  deepest  degradation,  after  having 
committed  a  wicked  deed.  In  the  Christian  religion  we 
have  some  such  custom  in  the  striking  of  the  breast 
three  times,  to  express  thereby,  that  as  the  heart  is  the 
seat  of  our  injustice,  so  it  deserves  to  be  punished. 

*  See  upon  this,  Bellinger's  "  Sabina,"  A.  M.  0. 


CHAPTER    VI. 

THE   SACRIFICES   IN   THE    TEMPLE    OF 
JUPITER. 

HE    warlike    exercises   already  mentioned, 
were  carried  on  throughout  the  entire 
winter;  and  Lucius  applied  himself  to 
the   duties   of  his   vocation  with  such  zeal, 
that  he  had  already  gained  the  reputation  of 
being  a  well-disciplined  soldier. 

The  Spring  of  the  year  167,  in  which  the 
imperial  troops  from  the  north  of  the  Adriatic  were  to 
meet  on  the  Alps,  had  commenced.  Orders  were  issued 
from  Aquileia,  near  to  where  the  two  emperors  had 
passed  their  winter,  that  the  people  should  use  all  the 
means  in  their  power  to  invoke  the  favor  of  the  gods. 
The  greatest  importance  was  attached  to  this  campaign. 
It  had  to  carry  the  banner  of  the  Romans  to  the  eastern 
banks  of  the  Danube,  and  to  announce  the  fame  of  their 
victorious  arms  to  the  surrounding  barbarians  as  far 
down  as  the  land  of  the  Jazygan,  now  called  Hungary, 
and  the  woody  shores  of  the  Theiss.  The  enemy  was 
known  to  them ;  and  the  renown  of  Ariovist,  the  gen- 
o.ral  of  the  Marcomanni,  and  of  Armin's  victory,  were 

(79) 


80  THE    SACRIFICES   IN 

well  remembered  by  them;  and  could  they  have  for- 
gotten the  bravery  of  the  Germans,  they  had  a  memento 
of  it,  in  the  annual  procession  of  the  Capitoline  geese, 
which  by  their  cackling  once  saved  Eome  from  a  nightly 
attack  of  those  barbarians.  Countless  sacrifices  bled  on 
the  altars  of  Aquileia,  as  well  as  at  Athens.  All  the 
purifications  customary  since  the  time  of  Numa,  were 
performed.  There  was  also  a  Lektisternium  of  seven 
days  celebrated,  which  consisted  of  meats  being  offered 
to  the  gods  on  small  tables,  before  which  the  statues 
were  left  lying,  but  those  of  the  goddesses  were  placed 
sitting.*  To  the  east  of  the  Acropolis,  not  far  from 
Adrian's  Arch,  where,  to  this  day,  sixteen  gigantic  pil- 
lars of  Corinthian  architecture  stand,  was  the  magnifi- 
cent temple  of  Jupiter  Olympus.  This  edifice  was  sup- 
ported by  a  forest  of  pillars,  one  hundred  and  twenty  in 
number,  and  was  two  thousand  three  hundred  feet  in 
circumference.  It  was  Adrian  who  completed  this  an- 
cient building.  A  countless  number  of  statues  orna- 
mented the  whole,  but  the  one  which  held  the  first  place, 
was  the  famous  colossal  statue  of  Jupiter  Olympus,  in 
gold  and  ivory,  finished  by  Phidias.  In  addition  to 
this,  was  the  stupendous  memorial  to  the  Emperor 
Adrian,  which  had  just  been  erected  by  the  grateful 
city.  This  colossal  structure  could  be  looked  upon  as 
one  of  the  seven  wonders  of  the  world,  although  not 
counted  as  one,  and  the  ruins,  to  this  day,  make  an 
astonishing  impression  on  the  traveller ;  which  can  only 
be  exceeded  by  viewing  the  remnant  of  the  Acropolis, — 
a  city  of  gods  reduced  to  fragments !  — 

*  Stolberg's  History  d.  R.  I.  viii.  8,  73. 


THE    TEMPLE    OF  JUPITER.  81 

A  clear  morning  smiled  from  the  heavens ;  the  sun 
had  scarcely  appeared  above  the  horizon,  when  the  men 
of  Athens  fit  to  bear  arms  assembled  together  in  their 
coats  of  mail  and  brazen  helmets,  glittering  in  the 
morning  sun.  Lucius  was  also  ready,  and  whispered 
mysteriously  in  his  mother's  ear,  that  the  Augurs 
complained,  the  day  previous,  that  the  sacred  chickens 
would  not  feed,  and  that  at  the  last  augury,  neither  a 
raven  nor  a  crow  had  appeared.  "Obstinate  ravens," 
added  he,  "  at  other  times  they  will  croak  all  the  day 
long." 

''  Therefore  we  must  pray  the  more  for  the  assistance 
of  the  gods,"  replied  Metella,  who  was  just  having  a 
parsley  wreath  twined  through  her  hair.  "An  unfavor- 
able augury,"  said  she,  "is  a  serious  matter,  for  thereby 
people  lose  caurage.  Have  you  not  heard  what  the 
oracle  at  Delphi  has  proclaimed  ?  " 

"Oh,  the  oracle,"  said  Lucius,  "that  knows  no  longer 
whether  Croesus  is  boiling  a  lamb  or  a  tortoise**  The 
golden  treasures  of  Delphi  would  be  more  acceptable  to 
us  now  than  its  leathern  oracles,  and  a  Pythaulus  is 
more  thought  of  in  those  days  than  a  Pythius."  f 

Metella  now  began  to  reflect  seriously  on  the  approach- 
ing war,  on  the  unfavorable  account  of  the  Augurs,  the 

*  A  jest  on  the  famous  words  of  the  Oracle  in  the  time  of  Croesus,  who 
scut,  a  messenger  to  Delphi  to  ask  what  he  was  doing  at  home  at  thn.t  moment. 
The  Oracle  gave  a  correct  answer  :  "  That  the  king  was  standing  before  a 
caldron  boiling  a  lamb  and  a  tortoise." 

f  There  were  at  this  time,  according  to  Pausanius,  ten  books,  great  treas- 
ures, in  Delphi:  Pythaulus  the  combatant  with  the  Dragon.  (Phyton  was 
called  Pythaulus.)  The  Oracle  gave  its  last  answer  about  the  year  of  our 
Lord  366,  to  Julian  the  Apostate :  "  Say  to  your  king  that  Phoebus  has  no 
longer  a  shelter." 
F 


82  THE    SACRIFICES    IN 

probable  fate  of  her  only  child,  and  on  the  sad  farewell 
that  awaited  her  in  a  few  days.  While  she  was  buried 
in  these  melancholy  thoughts,  Duranus,  the  boy  whose 
business  it  was  to  strike  the  hours  on  the  Clepsydra, 
slipped  between  the  rich  Indian  curtains  hanging  before 
the  entrance  of  her  apartment,  and  announced  the  hour 
to  her,  so  that  she  might  hold  herself  in  readiness  to  at- 
tend the  sacrifice. 

What  a  magnificent  and  exhilarating  sight  it  was,  to 
see  the  thousands  crossing  the  plains  outside  Athens,  on 
their  way  to  the  Temple !  The  vivid  flashes  from  the 
Bteel  helmets  and  naked  swords ;  the  shields,  glittering 
in  the  rising  sun ;  the  helmet-plumes,  floating  gracefully 
on  the  breeze ;  and  above  the  heads  of  the  warriors  could 
be  seen  in  thousands,  halberts,  lances,  and  standards,  — 
and  banners  of  golden-winged  eagles,  waving  and  flutter- 
ing in  the  morning  air.  The  legions  arriving  at  the 
Temple,  ranged  themselves  in  order  before  the  altars 
erected  outside,  which  were  richly  decorated  with  wreaths 
and  flowers.  A  herald  stepped  forward,  and  with  a 
stentorian  voice  commanded  profound  silence.  After 
the  cry  "  Javele  linguss,"  the  priest  of  Jupiter,  robed  in 
a  purple  mantle,  appeared  before  the  entrance  of  the 
sanctuary,  and  the  sacrifice  began,  which,  this  time,  was 
to  be  all  the  more  solemn,  as  Jupiter  had  not  inhaled  the 
vapor  of  sacrifice  from  Olympia  for  a  long  time.  The 
incense  was  already  burning  on  a  hundred  altars,  and  the 
smoke  ascended  from  countless  thuribles.  Then  the 
priest,  with  a  loud  voice,  and  raising  his  hands  to  heaven, 
addressed  a  prayer  to  Jupiter,  imploring  the  defeat  of 
the  enemy,  and  the  triumph  of  the  imperial  arms.  He 


THE    TEMPLE     OF    JUPITER.  83 

promised  that  a  portion  of  the  booty,  if  the  Eomans  con- 
quered, should  be  appropriated  to  father  Jupiter  and  his 
Temple.  Those  who  stood  near  the  altars,  touched  them 
in  sign  of  consent;  others  embraced  the  statues  of  the 
gods,  multitudes  of  which  were  to  be  found  amongst  the 
pillars  of  the  temple ;  whilst  many  made  a  circle  several 
times  round,  keeping  their  fingers  on  their  lips  in  sign 
of  their  devotion. 

When  this  was  at  an  end,  a  number  of  magnificently 
attired  servants,  whose  duty  it  was  to  attend  to  the  sacri- 
fice, walked  in  procession  up  through  the  centre,  which 
was  lined  on  each  side  by  the  warriors.  Amongst  them 
was  Popis,  with  tucked-up  garments,  who  led  a  white 
gilt-horned  bull,  which  was  without  blemish,  and  was  so 
gorgeously  decorated  with  precious  stuffs  and  rich  rib- 
bons, that  he  could  hardly  be  seen.  Whilst  the  animal 
was  standing  opposite  the  magnificent  statue,  which  rep- 
resented Jupiter  grasping  the  thunderbolt,  and  seated  on 
a  throne  of  ivory,  incense  was  again  thrown  up  and  cast 
upon  the  fires  which  burned  on  the  altars.  The  smoke 
was  so  dense  that  the.  pillars  became  invisible,  and  the 
rich  vestments  of  those  who  officiated  shone  through  the 
clouds  of  incense  like  sparkling  gossamer.  The  priest 
of  Jupiter  advanced,  sprinkled  the  animal  with  lustral 
water,  scattered  meal  mixed  with  salt  upon  his  head,  then 
took  some  finely  powdered  incense,  and  threw  it  on  the 
forehead  of  the  bull,  between  the  gilded  horns.  He  then 
tasted  the  wine,  and  gave  some  of  it  to  the  other  priests, 
who  were  standing  round  him  dressed  in  white  robes. 
After  the  bull  had  partaken  of  a  libation  of  this  wine, 
gome  of  the  hairs  above  his  forehead  were  plucked  out 
and  cast  into  the  flames. 


84  THE    SACRIFICES    IN 

During  this  ceremony,  Popis  stood  with  his  well- 
sharpened  knife,  awaiting  the  commands  of  the  high- 
priest.  On  each  side  of  the  bull  stood  the  firm-handed 
assistants  of  Popis,  who  partly  had  to  lay  hold  of  the 
animal  at  the  moment  of  killing,  and  partly  to  catch  the 
blood  in  the  sacred  vessels,  and  to  pour  it  on  the  altars. 
Popis  then  asked  the  high-priest,  "Shall  I  do  it?  "  who 
answered,  "  Do  it."  At  this  command,  he  plunged,  with 
a  powerful  hand,  the  sharp  knife  into  the  neck  of  the 
animal,  and  during  the  bellowing,  the  warm  blood  of  the 
victim  was  caught  in  vessels  and  sprinkled  on  the 
altars. 

As  soon  as  the  beast  had  bled  to  death,  the  office  of 
Augurs  commenced.  They  began  to  examine  the  entrails, 
and  took  out  the  heart  and  liver ;  but  they  examined 
the  latter  with  the  greatest  exactness,  as  being  the  seat 
of  numerous  signs.*  With  a  serious  mien,  they  divided 
it  into  two  parts,  and  repeatedly  complained  that  this 
time  it  failed  entirely  in  a  certain  fleshy  protuberance. 
But  the  heart  of  the  animal,  and  well-arranged  entrails, 
gave  more  hope  for  a  happy  termination  of  the  war. 

The  future  was  ascertained  in  this  manner,  and  those 
parts  of  the  victim  which  belonged  to  the  gods  were 
sprinkled  with  flower,  wine,  and  incense,  and  placed 
upon  the  flickering  embers.  Upon  this,  the  people  ap- 
proached and  laid  down  their  gifts,  which  were  also 
burnt  in  honor  of  the  gods;  amongst  these  offerings 
were  the  most  costly  gold  and  silver  ornaments. 

But  as  this  day's  sacrifice  was  too  important  for  only 

*  More  advanced  Physiology  can  give  a  reason  why  tho  liver  was  looked 
upon  as  the  seat  of  mysterious  signs  or  omens. 


THE    TEMPLE    OF    JUPITER.  85 

one  bull  to  serve,  so  the  heathens  sent  Jupiter  a  countless 
number  of  heifers,  the  principal  of  which  were  to  be 
offered  to  the  gods,  others  for  the  priests,  and  the  re- 
mainder for  the  people,  who  sat  down  round  the  temple 
waiting  for  the  feast,  with  the  music  of  pipes,  cornets, 
and  flutes.  The  feast  at  an  end,  prayers  were  said  aloud, 
the  wine  was  handed  round,  and  then  the  people  were 
dismissed  with  the  words,  "You  are  allowed  to  depart 
in  peace."  We  have  now  in  a  few  lines  placed  before 
our  reader  a  pagan  sacrifice ;  and  we  leave  it  to  him  to 
judge  of  the  religious  element  of  the  action. 

Only  one  remark  we  wish  to  add  upon  the  fundamen- 
tal thought  of  the  action.  Sacrifice  is  the  centre,  not 
only  of  the  Christian,  but  also  of  the  Mosaic,  and  even 
of  Pagan  worship.  He  who  makes  the  offering  acknowl- 
edges that  he  is  unworthy  of  the  gifts  of  the  divinity, 
and  that  he  has  forfeited  them  by  sin.  Therefore  he 
places  on  the  altars  the  most  beautiful  substitute  of  the 
gifts  of  the  deity,  fruits,  animals,  and  treasures,  in  hum- 
ble acknowledgment  that  he  is  unworthy  of  such  bless- 
ings. The  anger  of  God,  according  to  the  ancient  faith, 
was  to  be  entirely  appeased  only  by  a  sacrifice  of  life, 
and  hence  came  human  sacrifices ;  —  the  blood  of  man 
was  looked  on  as  the  bearer  of  life,  and  poured  upon 
the  altar.  Later  on,  the  blood  of  animals  was  offered 
instead  of  human  blood ;  therefore  the  offerings  of  ani- 
mals, according  to  the  ideas  of  the  ancients,  and  also  of 
the  Israelites,  were  a  substitute  for  human  offerings. 

The  religious  ceremony  we  have  just  described  in  the 
Temple  was  intended  to  conciliate  Jupiter,  father  of  the 
gods,  with  mankind,  and  thereby  to  make  them  worthy 


86  THE  SACRIFICES. 

of  Iris  assistance  in  the  coming  war.  For  the  same 
reason,  we  see  the  people  of  Athens,  day  after  day, 
making  their  offerings,  at  one  time  in  the  citadel  of 
Pallas,  at  another  in  the  massively  built  temple  of 
Mars,*  and  in  numerous  other  temples  of  the  city. 

At  length  the  day  dawned  in  which  the  soldiers  were 
to  take  shipping  in  the  harbor  of  Piraus.  It  was  the 
day  of  separation  from  family,  friends,  and  country. 
Fathers  reminded  their  sons  of  the  old  saying  of  the 
Spartan,  "  Either  to  return  with,  or  on  the  shield." 

"With  blessings  Lucius  extricated  himself  from  the 
tender  embraces  of  a  mother  who  loved  no  one  on  earth 
more  ardently  than  the  fiery  youth  who  now,  for  the 
first  time,  took  the  field.  He  knew  how  to  comfort  his 
mother,  by  placing  before  her  the  glorious  future,  and 
the  high  honors  which  the  present  war  would  secure. 
We  shall  soon  see  how  he  found,  that  youthful  enthu- 
siasm resembles  a  glittering  soap-bubble  which  only  too 
soon  sinks  into  a  drop  of  muddy  water. 

*  The  beautiful  Doric  temple  on  the  west  side  of  Athens  is  considered  to 
be  one  of  the  best  preserved  ruins  of  antiquity,  and  is  usually  called  the 
Temple  of  Theseus.  Doctor  Rosse  mentions  that  this  temple  was  dedicated 
to  the  god  of  war. 


CHAPTER     VII. 


CHARACTERISTIC    SKETCHES    OF      THE 
SLAVES,  AND   THEIR   MODE   OF  LIFE. 

HEN  Lucius  departed,  his  mother  gave 
way  to  excessive  grief.  She  now  felt,  for 
the  first  time,  how  tenderly  she  loved  her 
son.  While  we  leave  her  in  solitude,  re- 
tired from  the  world,  with  an  ear  for 
nothing  else  but  the  language  of  a  mother's 
afflicted  heart,  we  will  take  our  gentle 
readers  through  the  domestic  portion  of  this  lady's  im- 
mense establishment,  and  give  them  a  little  idea  of  the 
characters  and  mode  of  life  of  its  principal  inmates. 

To  commence  then: — In  those  buildings  surrounding 
the  court-yard  were  an  unusual  number  of  cooks,  all 
of  whom  were  well  experienced  in  preparing  delicacies. 
They  spared  no  pains,  this  very  day,  in  serving  up 
favorite  dishes  for  their  afflicted  mistress ;  yet  they  had 
not  the  satisfaction  of  seeing  her  enjoy  them.  The  duty 
of  carrying  them  to  table  devolved  upon  youths  of  the 
finest  form,  purchased  from  the  distant  north,  with  their 
much  admired  blue  eyes  and  flaxen  hair.  Next  was  a 
capacious  hall,  the  occupants  of  which  remind  us  of  our 

(87) 


88  SKETCHES    OF    THE    SLAVES, 

industrious  factory -people.  Maids  were  sitting  behind 
a  long  row  of  looms,  weaving  stuffs,  partly  for  their 
mistress,  and  partly  for  the  numerous  domestics  of  the 
house.  In  the  garden  were  a  still  greater  number  of 
slaves,  some  planting  vegetables,  others  weeding  flower- 
beds, and  looking  after  the  fruit-trees.  But  in  Metella's 
olive-gardens,  vineyards,  and  in  her  country-houses, 
both  at  Kephissia  and  Eleusis,  one  could  only  form  a 
perfect  idea  of  the  number  and  occupations  of  her 
dependants. 

After  this  general  survey,  we  will  now  place  some  of 
the  above-mentioned  beings  individually  before  the 
reader.  We  will  first  introduce  him  to  our  favorite, 
who  is  just  now  standing  in  penance  in  the  corner  of 
the  front  impluvium,  the  fair-haired  Duranus,  whose 
duty  it  is  to  stand  near  the  Clepsydra,  or  water-clock. 
When  he  perceived  that  strangers  were  coming,  he  hung 
down  his  head  in  confusion  upon  the  little  board  sus- 
pended from  his  neck,  upon  which  was  written  the  fault 
he  had  been  guilty  of.  As  it  had  gone  well  with  him 
for  some  weeks,  he  took  down  the  whip  that  usually 
hung  on  the  balusters,  and  mischievously  secreted  it  in 
one  of  the  arbors  of  the  garden.  At  length  his  conduct 
required  it,  and  it  was  nowhere  to  be  found,  till  the 
severe  Bogus  discovered  it,  and  deeply  impressed  it  on 
the  shoulders  of  the  youth.  In  addition  to  this,  a  log 
was  fastened  to  his  foot,  and  he  had  been  already  stand- 
ing half  the  day  in  a  corner  of  the  colonnade.  Al- 
though he  then  looked  downcast,  still  his  usual  aspect 
was  cheerful.  He  bore  a  strong  resemblance  to  the 
playful  squirrel,  which  is  happiest  when  climbing  trees. 


AWD    THEIR   MODE    OF  LIFE.  89 

His  gentle  disposition  often  expressed  itself  in  the  soft 
plaintive  tones  he  drew  from  his  Tibia.* 

When  mischievously  inclined,  he  would  take  his  tam- 
bourine and  drum  upon  it  with  all  his  might,  till  Bogus 
gave  him  a  sensible  hint  that  it  was  time  to  strike  the 
hour  on  the  Clepsydra. 

This  Bogus  was  a  rough,  hard-hearted  man.  He  had 
spent  some  years  in  the  army,  of  which  he  was  not  a 
little  proud,  as  could  easily  be  seen  by  the  care  with 
which  he  kept  up  his  military  deportment.  He  is  Me- 
tella's  slave-master,  and  carries  a  staff  in  his  hand  as  the 
sign  of  his  office,  and  has  the  superintendence  and 
power  of  punishing  the  slaves.  A  cap  firmly  pressed 
down  on  his  head,  and  tightened  round  his  full,  bloated 
face,  gives  one  to  understand  that  he  is  no  longer  a 
slave.  Formerly  he  was  one,  having  been  taken  prisoner 
of  war,  with  other  soldiers,  and  made  to  pass  under  the 
yoke  in  the  market-place  of  Athens.  He  was  sold  as  a 
slave  to  Metellus,  from  whom  he  had  afterwards  re- 
ceived his  freedom.  A  scourge  would  have  suited  him 
better  than  a  staff,  for  nothing  gave  him  greater  pleasure 
than  to  tie  a  slave  up  to  a  pillar,  and  fasten  a  heavy 
\veight  to  his  feet,  in  order  that  he  might  have  him  in  a 
straight  immovable  position,  to  receive  an  uncertain  num- 
ber of  lashes.  His  cruel  disposition  resembled  Caligula's. 
This  Emperor  one  day  ordered  several  youths  of  the 
best  families  of  Rome  to  be  lashed,  and  then  put  to  the 
torture,  and  this  merely  for  pastime.  His  severity  to 
his  inferiors  was  only  equalled  by  his  cringing  ser- 
vility and  uncomfortable  politeness  to  his  superiors. 

*  A  musical  instrument  of  that  day. 
8* 


90  SKETCHES    OF   THE    SLAVES, 

A  similar  situation  to  that  which  Bogus  had  once 
enjoyed  with  Metellus,  his  deceased  master,  an  old 
female  slave,  nearly  sixty  years  of  age,  named  Selina, 
enjoyed  with  his  mistress.  She  was  an  African  by 
birth,  and  had  passed  more  than  half  her  life  with  her 
present  mistress.  She  had  known  Metella  as  a  child, 
and  was  purchased  by  Atticus  in  the  slave-market  of 
Rome,  to  nurse  his  little  Chrysophora.  Her  dark-brown 
African  countenance  formed  a  humorous  contrast  with 
the  fair,  delicate  complexion  of  her  youthful  charge ;  and 
Atticus  never  thought  that  his  little  daughter  looked 
lovelier  than  when  she  was  reclining  in  the  arms  of  her 
ugly  nurse.  Selina,  therefore,  knew  the  whole  life  of 
her  mistress,  and  had  so  great  an  affection  for  her,  that 
she  preferred  living  as  a  slave  with  her,  than  to  accept 
the  freedom  proffered  her.  But  this  affection  was  al- 
most her  only  good  quality,  for  in  consequence  of  her 
evil  dispositions,  which  increased  with  her  years,  she 
made  herself  perfectly  insupportable  to  her  fellow- 
slaves,  and  was  so  uncharitable,  that  she  could  not  have 
a  servant  near  her,  to  whom  she  did  not  speak  in  confi- 
dence against  every  other  person  in  the  house.  In  spite 
of  this,  it  was  to  her  a  matter  of  the  first  importance, 
that  she  should  bear  a  high  character  in  the  eyes  of  all. 
On  the  other  hand,  she  was  such  a  hypocrite,  that  she 
poured  forth  her  flatteries  not  only  on  her  mistress,  but 
on  the  very  meanest  of  the  slaves.  This  cringing  char- 
acter is  a  quality  in  the  Africans.  Though  so  old,  she 
daily  used  a  number  of  superstitious  means  to  preserve 
her  dark  beauty ;  and  being  ashamed  of  her  short 
woolly  hair,  she  concealed  it  with  a  handsomely  folded 


AND    THEIR   MODE    OF  LIFE.  91 

• 

turban.  As  she  had  been  so  long  in  service,  she 
was  able  to  put  by  a  considerable  sum,  for  she  received 
monthly  wages  in  six  measures  of  corn  and  five  florins 
in  money.  With  her  savings  she  had  her  own  peculiar 
way  of  speculating,  and  resembled  the  Indian  ant, 
which,  it  is  said,  collects  gold  out  of  the  earth.  She 
bought,  from  time  to  time,  a  cheap  slave,  made  some 
profit  by  his  labors,  and  then  disposed  of  him  at  a  great 
gain.  Her  last  purchase  was  a  first-rate  gold  embroi- 
derer, who  cost  her  but  forty  florins.  She  knew  so  well 
how  to  save  her  money,  that  she  never,  without  absolute 
necessity,  parted  with  a  farthing.  Nevertheless  all  this 
hoarding  could  secure  her,  in  this  life,  no  further  dis- 
tinction from  her  fellow-slaves,  and  none  after  death, 
save  the  solitary  privilege  of  having  her  body  consumed 
on  the  pile.  But  in  order  that  our  gentle  readers  may 
not  imagine  that  all  Metella's  slaves  were  like  the  gray- 
bearded  Bogus  or  the  swarthy  Selina,  we  will  now  say 
a  few  words  of  the  gentle  Ophne,  of  whom  we  have 
already  spoken,  and  of  Thrax,  the  dwarf. 

Ophne,  during  the  few  years  she  had  spent  in  the  ser- 
vice of  Metella,  had  passed  through  a  series  of  difficul- 
ties. At  first,  she  was  employed  in  the  lowest  manual 
labor,  then  she  was  raised  to  the  dignity  of  dusting  her 
lady's  sandals.  Her  next  step  in  advancement  was,  that 
she  learned  to  work  in  leather,  so  that  she  could  finish 
off  sandals  to  the  perfect  satisfaction  of  her  mistress. 
With  extraordinary  facility,  she  could  imitate  the  pattern 
of  everything  she  saw,  in  the  way  of  needlework,  and 
complete  it  equal  to  the  original ;  and  one  had  only  to 
give  her  a  sign,  and  she  brought  exactly  what  was 
required. 


92  SKETCHES    OF   THE   SLAVES, 

• 

It  was  irresistibly  droll  to  see  her,  when  chosen  to 
accompany  Metella  on  a  walk.  Fearing  that  her 
numerous  friends  would  not  observe  her  in  company 
with  her  mistress,  she  bustled  along,  fanning  her  most 
attentively,  then  nodding  to  her  friends,  first  to  the 
right,  then  to  the  left,  so  that  her  perpetual  motion 
would  lead  one  to  suppose  that  quicksilver  ran  through 
her  veins. 

Thrax,  the  dwarf,  stood  in  direct  opposition  to  the 
lively  Ophne.  At  the  age  of  five,  he  was  purchased  by 
a  Greek  slave-merchant,  and  his  being  extremely  small 
for  his  years  proved  his  greatest  misfortune.  His  dimin- 
utive size  suggested  to  his  master  the  idea  of  training 
him  for  a  dwarf.  For  this  purpose,  he  was  put  in  a 
dwarf-case,  as  Phinius  expresses  it,  that,  by  constant 
pressing  and  a  sparing  diet  of  fruit,  he  might  not  exceed 
the  required  height — three  feet.  After  having  been 
trained,  he  was  offered  for  sale  in  the  public  market- 
place of  Athens,  where  the  good  Metella  purchased  him 
at  a  high  price,  but  much  more  through  pity  than  for  a 
household  fool.  Thrax  not  being  a  dwarf  by  nature, 
had  not  their  usual  qualities  of  wit  and  sarcasm,  but 
was,  on  the  contrary,  a  gentle,  harmless  little  fellow.  A 
smile  played  round  his  lips,  which  kept  up  a  medium 
between  laughing  and  crying.  In  the  goodness  of  his 
heart,  he  willingly  allowed  each  one  to  make  merry 
at  his  expense ;  but  at  the  same  tim«,  although  he  an- 
swered in  a  friendly  manner  the  questions  put  to  him, 
one  could  see  by  the  tears  starting  in  his  eyes,  that  his 
feelings  had  not  been  stinted  with  his  growt|j.  Me- 
tella, as  well  as  her  son,  had  always  treated  him  with 


AND    THEIR    MODE    OF   LIFE.  93 

great  kindness,  and  any  one^who  required  his  departure 
bad  only  to-  say  something  of  the  absent  Lucius,  whom 
he  tenderly  loved,  and  he  would  instantly  disappear 
and  hide  either  in  a  corner  of  the  garden,  or  somewhere 
in  the  house,  to  give  vent  to  his  feelings. 

It  was  useless  to  talk  of  freedom,  either  during  the 
ancient  Eepublic,  or  during  the  time  that  Borne  was  an 
empire ;  but  when  we  know  that  this  freedom  was  built 
upon  the  servitude  of  two-thirds  of  the  population,  we 
begin  to  change  our  opinion.  To  give  an  instance: 
Athens,  in  the  time  of  the  Governor  Demetrius  Phalereus, 
300  B.C.,  had  about  21,000  freemen,  10,000  half-free- 
men, and  400,000  slaves.  Therefore  there  was  a  glaring 
disparity  between  freemen  and  slaves.  The  following 
is  another  historical  example,  which  casts  a  blemish  on 
the  highly-lauded  freedom  of  ancient  Rome.  It  was  a 
law,  that,  when  a  master  was  murdered  in  his  own  house 
by  one  of  his  slaves,  and  that  the  murderer  could  not 
be  discovered,  all  the  slaves  of  the  house  had  to  die. 
The  rich  Podanius  Secundus  of  Eome  was  thus  mur- 
dered by  one  of  his  slaves,  and  four  hundred  were,  ac- 
cording to  law,  put  to  death.  The  people  objected  to 
its  being  carried  out,  and  sought  to  save  the  unhappy 
creatures;  but  the  Emperor  Nero,  to  whom  the  shed- 
ding of  human  blood  was  a  pastime,  had  the  way,  by 
which  the  condemned  were  to  be  led  to  death,  lined  with 
soldiers ;  and  the  cruel  sentence  was  fully  enforced.  A 
record  is  still  extant  from  which  we  may  infer  how 
great  the  number  of  slaves  was  which  one  master  could 
possess.  This  law  strictly  forbade  that  a  master,  in  his 
last  testament,  should  grant  freedom  to  more  than  one 


94      SKETCHES  OF  THE  SLAVES, 

hundred  of  his  slaves,  if  he* had  twenty  thousand !  "He 
is  a  poor  man,"  cries  Seneca,  "  who  can  find  pleasure  in 
a  service  of  slaves  more  numerous  than  the  army  of  a 
warlike  nation,  and  in  private  edifices  the  circumference 
of  which  exceeds  great  cities,  and  when  he  compares 
what  he  already  possesses  with  what  he  still  desires  to 
have,  he  is  in  comparison  a  beggar." 

With  so  immense  a  number  of  the  oppressed,  we  need 
not  be  surprised  when  the  Roman  history  informs  us, 
that  from  time  to  time  they  rebelled.  For  example,  the 
insurrection  of  the  slave  Bunus  and  his  sixty  thousand 
followers,  and  later  on  that  of  Spartacus,  who  met  the 
Romans  in  the  field  with  forty  thousand.  They  were 
conquered,  and  put  to  death  by  the  sword,  or  crucified 
by  thousands. 

Some  hundred  years  later,  we  hear  the  rattling  chains 
fall  from  the  hands  of  the  slave ;  but  who,  many  will 
ask,  helped  them  to  war  and  to  freedom, — Eunus,  or 
Spartacus,  or  One  who  stands  higher  than  all  Roman 
Emperors — God  ? 


CHAPTER    VIII. 
JUSTIN'S  APOLOGIA. 

kT  was  Metella's  birthday,  and  all  vied 
with  each  other  in  presenting  marks  of 
affection  to  their  good  mistress.    Graceful  gar- 
lands were  twined  tastefully  round  the  colon- 
nades leading  to  the  palace.   The  most  beauti- 
ful fruits  and  flowers  that  field  and  garden 
produced,  were  brought  in  ornamental   bas- 
kets,  and   placed  in   rich  profusion.     Some 
were  occupied  in  strewing  leaves  and  flowers,  while 
others  were  mixing  perfumed  artificials,  procured  from 
the  Egyptian  florist,  with  the  green  garlands. 

The  newest  and  best  works  were  exhibited ;  garments, 
girdles,  sandal -ties,  and  fans, — all  of  which  were  re- 
ceived by  the  lady  with  great  condescension  and  ac- 
knowledgment of  the  industry  displayed. 

But  a  present,  that  she  found  the  evening  before  in 
her  book-case,  surprised  her  more  than  all  the  rest.  It 
was  a  roll  of  parchment,  on  which  the  following  in- 
scription was  beautifully  written:  — 

"  To  the  Emperor  Titus  ^Elius  Adrianus  Antoninus 
Pius  Augustus  Caesar ;  and  to  Verissimus  his  son,  the 

(95) 


96  JUSTIN'S   APOLOGIA. 

philosopher;  and  to  Lucius  the  philosopher,  son  of 
Caesar  by  nature,  of  Pius  by  adoption,  a  lover  of  learn- 
ing ;  also  to  the  Sacred  Senate,  and  the  whole  Roman 
People :  in  behalf  of  those  who,  of  all  nations,  are  now 
unjustly  hated  and  aspersed, — I,  Justin,  son  of  Priscus, 
grandson  of  Bacchius,  of  Flavia  Neapolis,  in  Syria  of 
Palestine,  one  of  their  number,  present  this  volume  and 
address." 

When  Metella  read  this  long  title,  she  immediately 
guessed  from  whom  the  present  came.  But  she  was  still 
more  astonished  to  find  that  it  was  written  by  Lydia 
herself.  Her  Christian  slave  had  already  made  a  deep 
impression  on  her  mind,  since  the  time  she  discovered 
her  on  her  knees  before  her  cross,  in  her  little  room, 
praying  for  one  who  had  just  treated  her  so  cruelly. 
She  then  formed  a  high  opinion  of  her  exalted  virtue, 
and  this  opinion  was  not  lessened  when  she  received 
this  last  proof  of  her  noble  revenge. 

"If  the  Christians  thus  reward  injuries  done  them," 
said  she  to  herself,  "they  cannot  possibly  be  guilty  of 
those  crimes  which  are  attributed  to  them." 

Metella  then  ordered  the  writer  to  be  called  into  her 
presence,  and  assured  her  that  she  admired  more  the 
motive  whence  the  gift  proceeded,  than  the  gift  itself. 

"This  writing,"  said  she,  "I  have  long  wished  for. 
but  never  could  procure  it  till  now.  We  must  read  it 
together  in  a  quiet  hour ;  I  value  Justin  so  much,  be- 
cause he  had  the  courage  to  proclaim  his  convictions. 
Although  Plato  stands  higher  in  my  estimation  than  all 
the  other  philosophers,  still  there  is  one  thing  in  which 
he  is  blameworthy,  and  that  is,  that,  notwithstanding 


JUSTIN'S   APOLOGIA.  97 

his  belief  in  the  great  Creator  of  the  world,  he  sought 
in  a  speech  delivered  to  the  Athenians,  to  inculcate  the 
popular  belief  in  the  plurality  of  gods,  fearing  that  like 
Socrates  he  might  lose  his  life.* 

"  Would  you  like  to  know  the  doctrine  we  hold  ? 
Perhaps  it  approaches  nearer  to  yours  than  you  suspect. 
We  believe  that  Jupiter  is  the  Beginning  and  the  End, 
and  that  all  things  proceed  from  him.f  Our  school  ac- 
cepts also  that  Jupiter  has  subordinate  gods,  like  mes- 
sengers, who  execute  his  commands.  We  therefore  are 
widely  separated  from  the  doctrines  of  the  lower  classes, 
and  from  the  flighty  Eomans.  Their  folly  cannot  stand. 

"  The  poets  have  no  right  to  make  new  gods,  to  em- 
bellish the  history  of  their  lives,  and  to  force  them  on 
the  people  as  truths.  Homer  and  Hesiod  ought  to  have 
been  branded  as  impostors  and  sent  into  exile.  Each 
one  after,  according  to  them,  invented  new  gods,  so  that 
now  we  have  trouble  enough  to  remember  even  their 
names.  There  is  no  such  thing  as  a  god  with  goat's- 
feet." 

After  a  short  pause,  she  said,  "  With  respect  to  this, 
do  you  know  that  very  important  oracle  of  the  dead 
Pan?" 

"Certainly,"  replied  Lydia. 
What  do  you  know  about  it  ?  " 

"  In  the  reign  of  the  Emperor  Tiberius  Epitherses,  the 
father  of  the  orator  Aurelian,  together  with  many  others, 
tound  himself  on  board  a  merchant's  ship,  in  the  vicinity 

*  Justin  calls  this  a  punishable  denial  of  Plato's  better  convictions.    Virgil 
/.  "  Exhortations  to  the  Greeks." 
•f  Doctrine  of  Orphiger. 
9  G 


98  JUSTIN'S   APOLOGIA. 

of  the  islands  called  the  Echinades.  The  sun  had  gone 
down,  when,  not  far  from  the  island  of  Paxos,  a  voice 
was  suddenly  heard  which  called  to  Thamus  the  helms- 
man, who  was  an  Egyptian,  and  whose  name  was  scarcely 
known  on  board.  A  general  astonishment  seized  all 
present,  and  the  helmsman  remained  silent  to  the  first 
and  second  call ;  the  third  time  he  answered,  whereupon 
the  voice  swept  loudly  along  the  surface  of  the  waters, 
and  said,  '  When  you  arrive  at  Palodes,  announce  that 
the  great  Pan  is  dead.' 

"  Not  far  from  Palodes,  Thamus  turning  his  face  to- 
wards the  land,  called  out  from  the  far  end  of  the  ship, 
'Great  Pan  is  dead!'  Scarcely  had  he  uttered  these 
words,  when  a  general  lamentation  issued  from  a  multi- 
tude of  voices  on  shore.*  It  is  remarkable,"  added 
Lydia,  "  that  this  extraordinary  circumstance  took  place 
just  at  the  time  of  Christ's  death." 

Metella  listened  to  her  slave  with  pleasure.  After  a 
few  words  of  praise,  she  said,  "It  would  be  more  in  con- 
formity with  your  attainments,  if  for  the  future  you 
attend  to  my  head  rather  than  my  feet.  I  have  therefore 
resolved,  from  this  day  forward,  to  make  you  my  reader." 
This  advancement  filled  Lydia  with  anxiety,  being  con- 
vinced that  every  preference  excites  envy,  and  that  this 
would  excite  discontent.  She  therefore  determined,  from 
that  moment,  to  be  more  obliging  and  friendly  than  ever 
towards  her  fellow -slaves,  well  knowing  that  an  obliging 
manner  blunts  the  arrows  of  envy. 

"I  know  also,"  continued  Metella,  "that  I  have  to 
make  reparation  in  some  way  for  my  unkindness  towards 

*  Plutarch  upon  the  fall  of  the  Oracle. 


JUSTIN'  S   APOLOGIA.  99 

you  a  little  time  back.  But  to  show  you  that  I  am  not 
insensible  to  fine  traits  of  character,  accept  this  silver 
mirror  as  your  own  property,  and  dispose  of  it  as  you 
please."  Lydia  was  too  sensitive  not  to  feel  repugnance 
at  receiving  payment  for  the  trifling  pleasure  she  had 
afforded  her  mistress  in  the  parchment-roll.  But  to  re- 
fuse the  valuable  present  would  offend  Metella,  therefore 
she  accepted  it  with  humble  thanks,  and  gave  her  mis- 
tress to  understand  that  she  knew  how  to  value  the  gift. 

Selina  witnessed  this  interview  from  an  adjoining 
apartment,  and  could  scarcely  refrain,  when  'she  saw 
Lydia  leave  the  room  with  her  present,  from  recalling 
her  late  awkwardness  again  to  the  mind  of  her  mistress, 
and  from  adding  her  charitable  remarks. 

The  next  day,  Lydia  entered  upon  her  new  office,  and 
commenced  by  reading  the  Apologia. 

"  Is  it  not  true,"  said  Metella,  "  that  the  philosopher, 
Justin,  was  a  follower  of  Epicurus  ?  " 

"  Justin,"  replied  Lydia,  "  is  a  philosopher,  and  if  I 
do  not  err,  he  wears,  at  the  present  moment  in  Eome,  his 
philosopher's  cloak,  and  gives  instruction  in  the  Chris- 
tian doctrine.  He  is  a  native  of  Neapolis  in  Samaria, 
and  formerly  gave  himself  to  the  study  of  Plato ;  but  as 
it  did  not  content  him,  he  became  a  convert  to  the  Chris- 
tian religion.  As  such,  he  wrote  his^  Apologia  for  the 
Christians,  to  "the  Emperor  Antoninus  Pius  and  the 
Senate." 

"  We  '11  now  read.  But  first  of  all,  impart  to  me  Jus- 
tin's Christian  ideas  of  God." 

She  commenced :  * 

*  What  follow  are  but  fragments  of  St.  Justin's  renowned  Apologia. 


100  JUSTIN'S    APOLOGIA. 

"  We  acknowledge  the  true  God,  the  Father  of  Justice 
and  of  all  virtues,  in  whom  there  is  no  mixture  of  evil. 
"We  reverence  and  worship  Him  and  His  Son,  who  came 
down  to  instruct  us,  and  also  the  Holy  Spirit." 

"  This  faith,"  interrupted  Metella,  "  is,  without  doubt, 
very  different  from-  ours.  But  still  more  unlike,  and  it 
is  said  even  immoral,  are  the  customs  of  the  disciples 
of  Jesus  Christ." 

Lydia  read,  in  answer,  the  following  passage : 

"Now  let  us  relate  in  what  manner  we  have  dedicated 
ourselves  to  God,  having  been  created  anew  by  Christ. 
Those  who  promise  to  live  according  to  the  precepts  of 
Jesus  Christ,  are  taught  to  pray  and  to  fast,  and  to 
entreat  from  God  the  remission  of  their  past  sins,  we 
praying  and  fasting  with  them. 

"Then  they  are  conducted  by  us  to  a  place  where 
there  is  water,  and  are  regenerated,  being  washed  in  that 
water,  in  the  name  of  God  the  Father  and  Lord  of  the 
universe,  and  of  our  Saviour  Jesus  Christ,  and  of  the 
Holy  Ghost.  We  there  pray  earnestly  for  them  in  com- 
mon ;  and  salute  one  another  with  a  kiss ;  after  which, 
to  him  who  presides  over  the  brethren,  bread  is  brought, 
and  a  cup  of  wine  mixed  with  water.  And  he  having 
taken  them,  sends  up  praise  and  glory  to  the  Father  of 
all  things  through  the  name  of  the  Son,  and  of  the  Holy 
Spirit,  and  employs  much  time  in  offering  up  thanks  for 
having  been  deemed  worthy  of  these  things  by  Him : 
when  he  hath  ended  the  prayers  and  the  thanksgiving, 
all  the  people  present  express  their  assent  by  saying 
Amen,  which  in  the  Hebrew  tongue  signifies,  so  be  it. 
Then  they  who  are  called  among  us  Deacons,  give  to 


JUSTIN'S    APOLOGIA.  101 

each  of  those  present  a  portion  of  the  bread  and  wine 
mixed  with  water,  over  which  the  thanksgiving  has  been 
made,  and  carry  away  a  portion  to  those  who  are  absent. 
This  food  is  called  amongst  us,  Eucharist,  of  which  no 
one  is  allowed  to  partake,  but  he  who  believes  that  what 
we  teach  is  true,  and  has  been  washed  in  the  laver  (of 
baptism),  which  is  for  remission  of  sins  and  unto  regen- 
eration, and  who  lives  as  Christ  has  delivered. 

"  For  we  do  not  receive  these  things  as  common  bread 
and  common  drink ;  but  as  both  flesh  and  blood  of  that 
same  incarnate  Jesus." 

"According  to  this," remarked  Lydia,  "we  are  taught, 
that,  as  soon  as  the  thanksgiving  is  pronounced  over  the 
bread,  it  becomes  the  flesh  and  blood  of  Jesus  Christ, 
and  passes  over  into  our  flesh  and  blood,  to  nourish  our 
souls." 

"The  Apostles,"  she  read  on,  "in  the  memoirs  com- 
posed by  them,  which  are  called  Gospels,  have  written, 
that  Jesus  gave  them  this  injunction  :  that,  having  taken 
bread  and  giving  thanks,  He  said,  This  do  in  remembrance 
of  me;  this  is*my  body,  and  that,  in  like  manner,  having 
taken  the  cup  and  given  thanks,  He  said,  This  is  my 
blood. 

"  We  have  also,  on  that  day  which  is  called  after  the 
sun,  an  assembly  in  one  place,  of  all  who  dwell  in  the 
cities  or  country ;  and  the  memoirs  of  the  Apostles,  or 
the  writings  of  the  prophets,  are  read.  Then  when  the 
reader  has  ceased,  the  president  delivers  a  discourse,  in 
which  he  reminds  and  exhorts  to  the  imitation  of  these 
good  things.  We  then  all  rise  together  and  pray ;  and 
when  we  have  ceased  from  prayer,  bread  is  brought,  and 
9* 


102  JUSTIN'S    APOLOGIA. 

wine  and  water :  and  the  president,  in  like  manner,  offers 
up  prayers  and  thanksgiving  with  his  utmost  power,  and 
the  people  assent  by  saying  Amen.  Those  who  are  able, 
give  money,  according  to  their  means.  The  president 
takes  charge  of  the  collection,  and  distributes  it  to  the 
orphans,  the  widows,  the  sick,  to  those  in  prison,  and 
to  strangers ;  in  short,  he  is  the  guardian  of  the  op- 
pressed. 

"  This  meeting  is  held  on  Sunday,  because  this  is  the 
day  on  which  Jesus  Christ,  our  Eedeemer,  rose  from  the 
dead. 

"  So  far  as  this  appears  to  you  truthful  and  reasonable, 
so  give  it  due  esteem.  If  it  appears  to  you  only  empty 
talk,  despise  it.  But  do  not  condemn  harmless  men  to 
death  as  enemies.  But  we -tell  you  beforehand,  that,  as 
long  as  you  persevere  in  injustice,  you  will  not  be  able 
to  escape  the  judgment  of  God.  But  we  exclaim,  let  it 
be  done  as  it  pleaseth  God." 

The  learned  Grecian  listened  to  the  Apologia  with  at- 
tention. She  knew  well  the  impression  it  had  made  on 
the  noble  Antoninus  Pius,  and  that  the  Emperor  had 
sent  out  orders  to  Athens,  Larissa,  Thessalonica,  and 
other  great  cities,  forbidding  them  to  persecute  the  Chris- 
tians. As  soon  as  the  Apologia  was  finished,  the  young 
Christian  was  obliged  to  answer  numerous  questions  put 
to  her  by  her  mistress.  For  example,  she  required  in- 
formation on  the  life  and  miracles  of  Jesus  Christ,  and 
on  his  family.  Above  all,  she  admired  the  Founder  of 
Christianity,  on  account  of  the  calmness  and  greatness 
of  soul  He  exhibited  in  his  agonizing  death.  "For- 
merly," added  she,  "  such  a  death  seemed  more  fitting  for 


JUSTIN'S    APOLOGIA.  103 

a  malefactor  than  for  a  great  man.  But  Plato,  who  has 
also  described  the  Just  One,  has  taught  me,  'Virtuous 
till  death,  he  will  be  looked  upon  as  perverse  and  unjust, 
and  as  such,  scourged,  tormented,  and  fastened  to  a  cross.'  * 
Since  I  have  made  myself  more  familiar  with  this  view 
of  Plato,  I  am  more  reconciled  with  the  sort  of  death 
that  your  God  suffered."  Though  she  had  not  the  most 
distant  idea  of  becoming  a  Christian,  still  the  Apologia, 
which  held  the  highest  place  amongst  writings  of  that 
description,  was  a  means  by  which  she  became  more  in- 
timately acquainted  with  the  Christian  doctrine. 

Lydia  recommended  her  mistress  to  speak  on  the  reli- 
gion with  the  most  learned  men,  and  named  for  that 
purpose,  the  then  Bishop  of  Athens,  the  pious  Qua- 
dratus,  whom  the  Church  now  reckons  in  the  number 
of  her  saints.  She  offered  to  make  the  humble  Bishop 
acquainted  with  this  wish,  but  said,  if  she  preferred  a 
conversation  with  a  Christian  philosopher,  Aristides 
was  one,  and  he  also  had  composed  an  Apologia,  which, 
according  to  Eusebius,  the  writer  of  Church  History, 
was  to  be  found  in  the  hands  of  many.  There  was  also 
the  renowned  philosopher  of  Athens,  Athenagoras,  who 
had  written  a  book  on  the  resurrection  of  the  dead. 

Metella  promised  to  think  further  on  the  matter,  and 
for  that  day  put  an  end  to  the  conversation. 

*  Rousseau  acknowledges,  in  his  Einil,  i.  4,  "  Plato  paints  here  Jesus  Christ 
feature  for  feature." 


CHAPTER  IX. 


THE    SILVER    MIRROR. 

T  is  well  known  that  the  ancients  were 
strangers  to  the  luxury  of  glass  mirrors,  for 
the  Phoenicians,  afterwards  called  Tjrians, 
who  first  discovered  the  art  of  making  glass, 
kept  it  a  secret  among  themselves;  and  it  could 
only  be  purchased  from  them  for  its  weight 
in  gold.  It  is  recorded  that  even  so  late  as 
the  time  of  Nero,  it  was  so  expensive,  that  this  Emperor 
paid  £50,000  for  two  small  drinking-cups  of  transparent 
glass. 

The  mirrors  of  those  days  were  made  of  burnished 
gold  or  silver,  for  the  nobles,  while  the  lower  classes 
had  to  content  themselves  with  highly  polished  baser 
metals,  or  by  looking  at  their  reflection  in  a  vessel  of 
water.  Later  on,  as  the  love  of  splendor  became  the 
order  of  the  day,  mirrors  were  made  as  large  as  the 
human  form,  and  were  at  last  set  in  precious  stones.  A 
single  mirror  cost  a  lady  more  than  a  dowry,  and  the 
daughters  of  poor  generals  were  provided  with  this 
commodity  at  the  expense  of  the  city.* 


*  Seneca's  Meditations  on  Nature,  1st  Book. 


(104) 


THE    SILVER    MIRROR.  105 

The  mirror  which  Lydia  had  received  as  a  present 
from  her  mistress,  was  of  an  oval  form,  and  although  it 
did  not  sparkle  with  precious  stones,  still  it  was  one  of 
great  value.  Looking  in  it  one  day,  affected  her  with 
more  than  ordinary  melancholy,  for  her  own  features 
recalled  forcibly  to  her  mind  the  calm  but  suffering 
countenance  of  her  mother.  Lost  in  thought,  her  im- 
agination carried  her  to  distant  Rome,  and  placed  her  in 
a  narrow  cell,  wrapt  in  the  embraces  of  her  captive 
parent.  Returning  to  her  sad  reality,  she  exclaimed, 
"  O  could  I  but  know  whether  slavery  or  a  prison  sepa- 
rates us!  how  gladly  would  this  precious  mirror  be 
parted  with  for  thy  ransom."  At  this  moment  she  was 
interrupted  by  the  friendly  Ophne,  who  entered  with  a 
large  parcel  of  ribbons,  which  she  had  just  purchased. 
"  You  look  melancholy,  dear  Lydia,"  said  she,  "  but  I  '11 
tell  you  something  that  will  cheer  you.  The  man  from 
whom  we  purchase  our  leather,  has  a  grpwn-up  daughter, 
named  Aspasia ;  she  is  as  light  in  her  character  as  she  is 
handsome,  and  on  this  account  she  is  known  throughout 
Athens.  Only  think,  Lydia,  she  inquired  most  particu- 
larly after  you.  She  would  like  to  know  you,  and,  if  agree- 
able, would  bring  you  into  much  company.  But  remem- 
ber, she  belongs  to  those  of  light  character,  or,  as  others 
say,  she  is  one  of  the  noted  persons  of  Athens ;  and  if  I 
had  not  a  solemn  dread  of  your  morality,  I  could  tell  you 
much  more  about  her."  Lydia  was  silent,  and  the  other 
continued,  "  I  have  heard  of  her  for  the  last  two  years. 
Latterly  she  thinks  of  entering  the  married  state,  but 
she  must  first  have  a  good  sum ;  and  as  she  cannot  get 
this,  she  must  go  on  in  the  old  way."  Lydia  still  pre- 


106  THE    SILVER    MIRROR. 

served  a  dead  silence,  and  Ophne  receiving  no  encour- 
agement, said,  "  Now  I  must  go  to  my  mistress  and  show 
her  these  beautiful  ribbons,  and  give  her  back  the  re- 
mainder of  her  money."  * 

An  opportunity  offers  itself  here  to  speak  a  few  words 
upon  the  moral  state  of  Athens,  at  this  time.  Still  it  is 
an  ungracious  task  to  call  up  mouldering  bodies  to  the 
light  of  day,  and  where  would  you  come  to  an  end? 
Therefore  let  this  alone  be  understood,  that  the  Athe- 
nians, immediately  after  the  Persian  war,  put  up  a  paint- 
ing of  Venus,  under  which  was  represented  a  procession 
of  the  Athenians,  and  below,  the  following  inscription, 
written  by  the  poet  Simonides :  "  These  called  on  the 
goddess  Venus,  and  for  the  love  of  them  she  saved 
Greece."  Solon  himself,  the  Stoic  lawgiver,  caused  a 
temple  to  be  built  to  the  shameless  goddess ;  and  in  a 
short  time  the  whole  of  Greece  was  a  scene  of  abomina- 
tions. In  Athens,  honorable  marriage  no  longer  found 
a  sanctuary.  Vice  was  thus  raised  into  a  religion,  and 
therein  lay  the  worst  and  most  horrible  of  all  errors  of 
which  the  heart  is  capable. 

From  the  time  that  our  young  Christian  had  received 
information  of  Aspasia,  she  made  a  firm  resolution  not 
to  oppose  the  wished-for  acquaintance.  But  how  differ- 
ent were  the  motives  which  drew  them  together !  The 
one  had  the  intention  to  destroy, — the  other  to  save.  A 
few  evenings'  later,  Lydia  and  Aspasia  were  actually 
seen  at  the  corner  of  a  street,  engaged  in  deep  conversa- 
tion. Lydia  was  not  a  severe  judge  of  morals^  for  she 

*  At  this  period,  silk  was  as  expensive  as  glass,  and  the  Emperor  Aurelius 
refused  his  Empress  a  robe  of  that  material. 


THE    SILVER    MIRROR.  107 

knew  that  the  human  heart,  even  if  under  the  pestilence 
of  temptation  it  has  lost  blossom  after  blossom,  still  re- 
ceives an  impulse  from  God  to  bud  anew,  and,  like  the 
barren  fig-tree  which  stood  by  the  wayside,  was  not  to  be 
cut  down  immediately.  She  quickly  discovered  the  un- 
tainted and  redeeming  qualities  of  the  erring  girl,  and 
joined  the  better  she  advised,  to  the  good  already  there. 
Several  times  she  expressed  a  wish  to  hasten  as  much  as 
possible  the  marriage  she  had  in  view.  Aspasia  was 
touched  with  such  rare  kindness,  and  although  she  had 
no  idea  of  becoming  better,  this  language,  which  she 
heard  for  the  first  time,  was  to  her  heart  as  refreshing  as 
the  nightly  dew  to  a  scorched  heath. 

During  this  conversation,  one  of  Metella's  slaves  passed 
by  without  their  observing  her,  and  she  could  scarcely 
believe  her  eyes  when  she  saw  the  young  Christian 
speaking  with  a  votary  of  Aphrodite. — It  was  old 
Selina. 

Her  astonishment  was  still  more  increased  on  meet- 
ing the  same  party,  some  days  later,  close  to  the  Charon 
gate.*  Aspasia's  position  had  so  touched  the  heart  of 
the  zealous  Lydia,  that  she  turned  over  in  her  mind,  day 
and  night,  how  she  could  in  any  way  assist  the  strayed 
sheep,  and  snatch  her  from  the  errors  of  her  ways,  or  at 
least  help  to  the  sum  necessary  for  her  marriage.  It 
occurred  to  her  that  the  silver  mirror  was  of  more 
value  than  her  pay  for  three  years'  servitude,  and  that 
at  that  moment  she  could  not  dispose  of  it  better  than 
for  the  salvation  of  an  immortal  soul.  Then  she  thought 
of  her  absent  mother,  and  of  the  possibility  that  the 

*  Charon,  so  called  because  it  led  to  the  place  of  execution. 


108  THE    SILVER    MIRROR. 

mirror  might  release  her  from  her  chains.  But  the  trust 
she  placed  in  Divine  Providence  gave  her  confidence  for 
the  future,  and  decided  her  on  parting  with  her  mirroi 
for  the  present  emergency.  Eeligion  also  suggested  to 
her,  that  her  love  for  an  unhappy  erring  soul  must  not 
be  inferior  to  that  which  she  bore  for  her  own  mother. 
According  to  her  resolution,  the  following  evening  she 
carried  her  valuable  mirror  concealed  under  her  cloak ; 
—  one  Eye  alone  witnessed  the  act,  an  Eye  that  knew 
and  appreciated  her  intention.  What  a  touching  im- 
pression did  not  this  present  make !  How  expressively, 
and  widh  what  childlike  simplicity,  did  not  the  donor 
assure  the  receiver  that  the  mirror  was  not  stolen,  and 
how  often  did  she  entreat  her  to  say  nothing  of  the  mat- 
ter !  Aspasia  had  not  wept  for  years  till  then.  She  gave 
the  promise  to  have  her  present  converted  into  money, 
and  to  change  her  way  of  life  immediately.  There  was 
now  a  sort  of  friendship  cultivated  between  two  souls 
who,  in  word  and  work,  were  without  doubt  widely 
different,  but  still  resembled  each  other  in  tenderness  of 
feeling. 

After  this  act,  a  heavenly  cheerfulness  played  in 
Lydia's  eyes,  and  an  interior  happiness,  the  cause  of 
which  she  imparted  to  none.  In  this  silent  enjoyment 
of  her  heart,  she  performed  the  daily  duties  of  her  state, 
at  one  time  writing,  and  at  another  reading  for  her  mis- 
tress; but  while  these  occupations  were  going  on,  she 
knew  little  of  the  judgment  that  was  passing  on  her  in 
the  house. 

Selina  had  been  long  waiting  for  a  favorable  opportu- 
nity to  impart  to  her  mistress,  in  secret,  an  affair  which, 


THE    SILVER    MIRROR.  109 

as  she  said  herself,  not  only  threatened  the  reputation  of 
the  domestics,  but  also  that  of  their  mistress.  This  op- 
portunity at  length  presented  itself. 

"Not  many  days  ago,  noble  lady,"  so  began  Selina,  "I 
was  an  eyewitness  to  a  detestable  affair.  Your  wisdom 
will  scarcely  believe  it  possible,  that  one  of  your  domes- 
tics has  rewarded  your  goodness  with  the  most  shameful 
ingratitude.  Others  have  labored  for  nearly  half  a  cen- 
tury to  gain  your  favor,  and  have  scarcely  once  received 
a  present,  while  that  black-eyed  Asiatic,  who  is  scarcely 
two  years  in  your  service,  has  the  most  valuable  articles 
from  your  gracious  hand.  Young  Lydia  is  just  what^we 
always  suspected  her  to  be: — she  had  the  courage  to 
attach  herself  to  a  doctrine  which  not  only  permits  vice, 
but  commands  it.  These  broods  of  hungry  Christians 
assemble  together  in  the  holes  of  the  rocks ;  they  seat 
themselves  on  the  bones  of  their  slaughtered  children, 
and  devour  their  flesh.  That  the  magpies  sometimes 
steal  money,  is  well  known,  and  I  '11  not  inquire  what 
money  purchased  the  sheets  of  parchment  which  were 
written  on,  not  long  since,  for  a  birthday  gift.  Her 
secret  depravity  of  life  I  have  at  last  discovered,  thanks 
to  the  gods! — Not  long  since,  I  saw  her  with  a  certain 
Aspasia,  who  is  well  known  in  Athens  as  the  finest  berry 
on  the  Upas-tree  of  vice, — and  later  on,  in  the  evening, 
I  met  them  again  speaking  confidentially  with  each  other 
in  the  open  square.  What  she  whispered  in  that  girl's 
ear,  who  is  not  ashamed  to  go  through  the  market  laugh- 
ing and  dressed  in  her  suspicious-looking  gay  costume, 
is  easily  to  be  guessed  at.  Night  increases  the  suspicion ; 
and  to  this  most  suspicious  person,  by  whom  we  shall  all 
10 


110  THE    SILVER    MIRROR. 

lose  our  reputation,  you  make  presents,  and  distinguish 
her  above  all  your  other  slaves." 

Metella  at  once  perceived  Selina's  malice,  and  calmly 
replied,  "Sophocles  says,  'Silence  is  the  ornament  of 
woman.' — Where  did  you  see  Lydia  ?  " 

"  At  the  end  of  the  Hermos  street,  noble  lady, — at  that 
place  near  Stoa's  pillars  where  stands  Lucian's  magnifi- 
cent dwelling." 

"Do  you  really  believe,"  said  Metella,  "that  Christians 
commit  the  worst  crimes,  like  our  OEdipus  ?  " 

"  O  yes !  but  with  this  difference,  that  (Edipus  did  not 
kno.w  what  he  was  doing,  while  the  Christians  premedi- 
tately  commit  all  sorts  of  crimes,  and  are  forced  to  it  by 
their  priests.  •  Before  you,  Lydia  knows  very  well  how 
to  conduct  herself;  but  let  her  have  the  ring  of  Gyges, 
which  is  known  to  make  one  invisible,  and  then  she  will 
give  herself  up  to  all  sorts  of  wickedness." 

"  One  solitary  cause  of  suspicion  is  not  sufficient,  Se- 
lina,  to  punish  the  accused.  If  she  be  really  guilty,  it 
will  quickly  be  discovered ;  then  she  can  be  scourged, 
and  if  that  does  not  do,  she  can  be  put  to  death." 

The  last  expression  pleased  Selina  so  much,  that  she 
ended  this  conversation  by  a  lengthened  encomium  on 
Metella's  severe  sense  of  justice.  As  Selina  herself  was 
doubtful  whether  she  should  be  able  to  detect  Lydia 
again  in  the  company  of  Aspasia,  she  ordered  every 
slave  in  the  house  to  have  a  sharp  eye  upon  her.  For 
this  purpose,  she  related  to  them  all  that  she  saw  with 
her  own  eyes  at  Adrian's  Stoa,  and  begged  them  to  tell 
at  the  moment,  if  they  ever  discovered  her  with 
Aspasia.  The  good  Ophne  was  zealously  occupied  in 


THE    SILVER    MIRROR.  Ill 

trying  to  persuade  Selina  that  there  was  not  an  atom  of 
injustice  or  wrong  in  the  matter.  But  in  order  that 
Lydia  should  be  able  to  defend  herself,  she  informed 
her  of  the  reports  that  were  in  circulation  about  her. 
When  Lydia  received  the  information,  she  expressed 
herself  in  gentle  terms,  as  follows,  "I  must  remind 
Selina  not  to  spread  false  reports  concerning  me ; "  but 
for  the  rest  she  remained  as  quiet  as  before,  and  gave 
all  to  understand  that  she  did  not  bear  the  slightest 
revengeful  feeling,  nor  even  a  dislike,  towards  her. 
"Sensitiveness,"  she  used  to  say,  "belongs  only  to  little 
minds.  A  good  sword  and  a  pliable  heart  will  bear 
bending  without  breaking,  but  an  untempered  blade 
snaps  when  used  in  battle.  To  me  the  saying  is  as  pre- 
cious as  gold,  '  Act  well,  and  suffer  blame.' — It  is  pos- 
sible," she  added  to  herself,  "  that  it  was  a  ridiculous 
notion  of  mine  to  loosen  the  bands  of  a  sinner ;  if  Poly- 
carp  had  met  this  sinner,  she  would  scarcely  have  de- 
ceived him.*  Possibly  he  would  have  called  her  in  his 
short  way,  the  first-born  of  Satan.  Perhaps  she  is  so, 
and  that  I  have  greatly  deceived  myself.  But  there  are 
errors  which  tend  more  to  the  honor  of  man  than  to 
his  shame;  yes — 'more  precious  than  wisdom  and 
honor  is  a  little  foolishness  for  a  short  time.'f  There- 
fore I  shall  be  able  to  bear  my  error  in  this  case." 

Nevertheless,  she  began  sometimes  to  think  the  lan- 
guage of  despondency.  "  You  have  lost  your  country, 
your  mother,  your  master,  your  freedom,"  would  she 

*  St.  Polycarp  one  day  met  the  heretic  Mansion,  who  asked  him  if  he 
knew  him.     "Yes,"  said  Polycarp,  "you  are  the  first-born  of  Satan." 
f  Eccles.  x.  1. 


112  THE    SILVER    MIRROR. 

say; —  "one  thing  only  remained  of  your  temporal 
goods — your  reputation,  —  and  this  seems  also  to  have 
vanished."  But  she  would  quickly  reproach  herself  for 
this  language,  and  call  to  mind  how  much  the  disciples 
of  our  Lord  had  suffered.  She  would  cast  a  look 
through  her  open  window  at  the  Areopagus,  where  St. 
Paul  once  stood  and  preached  to  the  Athenians  the 
"  Unknown  God,"  and  say  to  herself,  "  What  did  not  St. 
Paul  suffer?  Four  times  he  suffered  stripes,  three  times 
he  was  whipped  with  rods,  once  he  was  stoned,  and  at 
last  ended  his  life  by  the  sword :  and  shall  I  feel  op- 
pressed, when  I  receive  an  injurious  word?  Ought  I 
not  to  tread  joyfully  in  the  blood-stained  footsteps  of 
my  Redeemer,  who  was  condemned  by  the  Jews  as  a 
blasphemer,  and  by  the  Romans  as  a  rebel  against  the 
authority  of  the  state  ?  Therefore,  poor  heart,  seek  thy 
consolation,  not  from  the  lips  of  thy  fellow-creatures, 
but  from  the  sufferings  of  thy  Creator  and  Redeemer ! " 
In  this  reflection  she  found  continued  peace.  Thus  has 
the  sight  of  our  crucified  Lord  through  centuries  com- 
forted the  oppressed  and  raised  their  courage ;  and  as 
the  dove,  when  chased  by  the  eagle,  saves  herself  in  the 
crevice  of  a  rock,  so  the  persecuted  heart  flies  from  the 
calumny  of  the  world,  and  seeks  peace  and  comfort  in 
the  sacred  wounds  of  her  dear  Redeemer. 

Months  had  passed  away,  and  Metella  could  discover 
no  fault  in  Lydia,  not  even  that  she  had  become  less 
friendly, — when  the  old  Selina,  one  day,  sought  again 
to  rouse  the  suspicion  of  her  mistress  against  Lydia,  by 
saying  that  her  silence  was  a  proof  of  her  guilt. 

Metella  lost  all  patience :  "  I  know,"  said  she,  "  your 


THE    SILVER    MIRROR.  113 

venomous  sting,  and  know  also  what  to  think  of  you. 
Guilt  tries  to  defend  itself,  but  innocence  prefers  to  be 
•silent." 

Metella  was  perfectly  convinced,  from  that  moment, 
that  there  was  no  truth  in  the  vile  accusations  against 
Lydia,  and  came  to  the  conclusion,  that,  just  as  her 
Christian  slave  was  calumniated  in  her  own  house,  so 
Christianity  was  calumniated  in  the  world ;  and  as  she 
bore  all  these  accusations  with  equanimity,  nay  even 
with  cheerfulness,  she  won  the  increased  affection  of  her 
mistress,  who  thought  that  Christianity  was  best  known 
by  the  life  of  a  good  Christian ;  and  the  Pagan  esteemed 
it  so  much  the  more,  the  more  beautiful  the  virtues 
were  that  she  saw  practised  by  her  Lydian  slave. 

A  few  weeks  later,  Metella  visited  one  of  her  friends, 
and  saw,  to  her  great  astonishment,  the  silver  mirror 
she  had  given  as  a  present  to  her  slave,  lying  on  a  small 
table.  With  an  impatient  curiosity,  she  sought  to  dis- 
cover how  her  friend  had  obtained  it.  She  said  that  it 
was  brought  to  her  by  a  certain  person  called  Aspasia, 
and  offered  for  sale. 

So,  thought  she  angrily  to  herself,  my  slave  is  really 
then  in  connection  with  this  wretch !  "  Oh,  I  beg  of 
you,  let  the  girl  be  sent  for  who  sold  it  you !  She  will 
teh  us  how  the  mirror  came  into  her  possession."  A 
slave  returned  in  a  few  minutes  with  Aspasia,  who 
related  that  a  Christian  girl  made  her  a  present  of  the 
mirror,  on  the  condition  that  she  would,  without  delay, 
enter  upon  a  previously  intended  marriage.  "  This,  and 
the  petition  of  a  Christian  maiden  quite  unknown  to 
me,  that  I  would  change  my  course  of  life,  not  a  little 
10*  H 


114  THE    SILVER    MIRROR. 

surprised  me,  and  I  shed  a  flood  of  tears.  Then  I 
vowed  to  the  gods  to  reform  my  life,  and  what  I  have 
vowed,  that  I  will  conscientiously  keep." 

Metella  listened  to  this  declaration,  and  felt  abashed 
that  even  for  a  moment  she  had  suspected  her  virtuous 
attendant,  who  had  borne  so  much  in  silence.  She  re- 
turned home,  firmly  resolved  never  to  utter  a  sentence 
of  what  she  had  just  heard.  She  acknowledged  her- 
self conquered  by  the  virtues  of  a  slave,  for  she  could 
not  believe  herself  capable  of  practising  such  greatness 
of  soul.  Yes,  she  even  doubted  if  in  all  the  heathen 
philosophy  a  solitary  example  could  be  brought  forward 
to  compete  with  the  modest  virtue  of  her  Lydia,  and 
was  at  a  loss  to  know  which  most  to  admire,  the  delicate 
purity  and  patience,  or  the  strength  of  character  dis- 
played in  observing  a  profound  silence  in  the  midst  of 
her  persecutions.  The  last  quality,  bearing  wrongs 
patiently,  appeared  to  her,  without  doubt,  the  pearl  of 
Lydia's  virtues. 

How  beautiful  is  chastity,  when  she  lifts  her  clear  eye 
to  Heaven  and  feeds  on  the  contemplation  of  her  God ! 
How  admirable  is  meekness,  that  rewards  hatred  and 
contempt  with  prayers  and  charity !  But  it  is  not  to  be 
denied,  that  doubly  to  be  appreciated,  as  the  queen  of 
virtues,  is  silent  innocence  crowned  with  the  thorns  of 
calumny. 

A  few  weeks  after,  while  Lydia  was  reading,  one 
evening,  to  her  mistress,  the  sounds  of  music  reached 
their  ears ;  they  found  that  it  proceeded  from  a  bridal 
party,  which  was  just  passing  under  the  window  where 
they  were  sitting.  Both  stood  up  to  see  it  more 


THE   SILVER    MIRROR.  115 

distinctly,  Metella  leaning  on  the  shoulder  of  her  slave. 
The  bride  suddenly  stopped  and  drew  aside  her  veil :  — 
it  was  Aspasia,  who  cast  a  look  at  Metella's  palace,  and 
perceiving  her  benefactress,  waved  her  hand ;  then  dash- 
ing a  tear  of  gratitude  from  her  eye,  she  covered  her 
face  again  with  her  veil,  and  passed  on. 

Metella  thought  she  recognized  in  the  features  of  the 
bride  the  girl  for  whom  Lydia  had  so  nobly  suffered, 
and  turning  quickly,  perceived  by  her  slave's  counte- 
nance, that  she  had  conjectured  rightly.  Fearing  to  be 
questioned,  and  unable  to  disguise  the  joy  of  an  approv- 
ing conscience,  Lydia  asked  permission  to  retire.  She 
sought  the  solitude  of  her  chamber,  and  kneeling  before 
her  cross,  offered  up  a  fervent  prayer  for  Aspasia's  per- 
severance in  a  virtuous  life,  and  in  gratitude  to  God,  for 
having  .made  her  the  humble  instrument  of  drawing  a 
soul  from  vice. 


CHAPTER  X, 

NEWS   FROM   THE    SEAT    OF    WAR. 
A.  D.  171. 

HE  termination  of  the  war  with  the  Par- 
thians,  A.D.  166,  brought  with  it  a  lam- 
entable evil.  The  soldiers  returning  from 
the  East,  carried  with  them  the  plague,  and 
infected  all  the  provinces  through  which  they 
passed.  Even  distant  Gaul  suffered  under  this 
pestilential  devastation;  and  it  was  so  dreadful 
in  Italy,  that  in  several  parts,  as  contemporary 
writers  relate,  agriculture  was  abandoned,  and  famine 
had  set  in.  In  Borne,  the  dead  bodies  were  conveyed 
out  of  the  city  in  immense  numbers,  and  interred  at 
the  public  expense.  Athens  also,  and  the  whole  of 
Greece,  experienced  the  horrors  of  this  evil,  in  greater 
or  lesser  visitations,  which  returned  for  several  years 
together. 

The  cases  of  death,  this  summer,  were  so  numerous, 
that  Metella  determined  at  once  to  remove  from  Athens 
to  one  of  her  estates  iu  the  country. 

Previous  to  her  departure,  letters  from  the  seat  of  war 

(116) 


NEWS   FROM   TEE    SEAT    OF    WAR.       117 

were  brought  by  carrier-pigeons  to  Aquileia,  where  they 
were  detained  and  copied,  as  the  delivery  was  doubtful. 
The  originals  were  kept,  and  the  copies  attached  to  the 
pinions  of  these  peaceful  messengers,  which  were  allowed 
to  continue  their  journey  to  Kome  or  Athens,  laden  with 
the  tidings  of  war 

By  this  means,  Metella  received  intelligence  from 
Lucius.  Sitting,  one  calm  evening,  at  her  open  window, 
occupied  only  with  the  thoughts  of  her  absent  son,  she 
heard  a  gentle  fluttering,  and  raising  her  eyes,  she  be- 
held the  faithful  little  courier  waiting  to  be  relieved  of 
its  burden.  With  the  letter  in  her  possession,  she  re- 
tired to  her  apartment,  to  enjoy  it  undisturbed, — where 
we  shall  leave  her  for  a  time. 

The  sun  had  sunk  to  rest,  and  night  was  closing  in, 
as  Lydia,  in  her  little  chamber,  finished  her  task  of  writ- 
ing. While  the  leaves  were  drying,  she  advanced 
towards  her  lightly  curtained  window,  opened  it  and 
gave  herself  up  to  meditation. 

All  around  is  still,  save  the  slight  rustling  caused  by 
the  waving  of  the  palms,  with  their  long  and  graceful 
branches,  bending  till  they  kiss  the  earth,  and  bounding 
back  again  upon  the  bosom  of  the  jealous  breeze.  In 
the  court-vestibule  are  heard  the  soft  murmurs  of  the 
gurgling  fountain.  High  in  the  wide  expanse  of  heaven, 
Night,  the  silent  widow  of  the  Day,  is  seated  on  her 
throne.  Her  face  is  hidden  by  a  veil  of  stars,  and  her 
sable  mantle  hangs  in  graceful  folds  upon  her  darling 
universe.  She  illumines  softly,  with  her  lamp,  the  moon, 
her  plague-infected  client,  and  bedews  her  with  her  wid- 
ow's tears. 


118       NEWS    FTiOM    THE    SEAT    OF   WAR. 

To  return  to  Metella,  who,  having  finished  her  letter, 
leaned  her  head  carelessly  on  a  cushion,  and  began  to 
reflect  on  the  contents.  At  length  she  closed  her  weary 
eyes,  and  sank  into  a  gentle  slumber.  The  letter,  which 
lay  beside  her,  commenced  with  the  words :  "  From  the 
camp ; — Lucius  to  his  beloved  mother,  health  and  hap- 
piness." 

"  Many  months  have  passed  since  I  have  crossed  the 
Alps,  and  saluted  the  clouds  of  heaven  so  near  at  hand. 
But,  dear  mother,  believe  me,  that  not  a  day  passes 
without  my  thinking  of  you.  I  remembered  you  par- 
ticularly, when  first  I  beheld  the  Danube  from  Nori- 
cum.*  You  once  read  to  me,  as  a  boy,  from  a  Roman 
historian,  that  towards  the  end  of  the  world,  this  river 
will  no  longer  flow  at  the  foot  of  the  mountain,  but  will 
swell  to  the  summit,  tear  up  rocks,  and  carry  with  it 
chains  of  mountains.  You  can  imagine  with  what  ideas 
I  reached  this  renowned  river,  yet  notwithstanding  its 
great  breadth,  I  was  still  disappointed  when  I  saw  that 
it  was  no  wider  than  our  flower-garden  at  Kephissia. 
You  have  already  heard  how  matters  stood  in  our  te- 
dious war,  before  we  reached  Aquileia,  and  that  the 
Marcomanni  had  gained  a  victory  over  the  Prefect  Vin- 
dex,  who,  with  twenty  thousand  Romans,  was  killed, 
and  the  retreating  army  pursued  as  far  as  the  Adriatic 
Sea.  This  had  all  occurred  previous  to  our  leaving 
Athens.  It  is  now  nearly  five  years  since  the  Emperor 
entered  Pannonia,f  and  we  have  been  waiting,  week 
after  week,  expecting  to  come  to  a  decided  engagement, 

*  The  land  to  the  east  of  the  river  Inn  in  Bavaria. 
f  A  part  of  the  present  Styria  as  far  as  Hungary. 


NEWS   FROM    THE    SEAT   OF  WAR.        119 

which  is  to  conclude  the  campaign.  Our  conquest  over 
the  Jazygan  was  accomplished  in  a  droll  manner.  The 
barbarians  held  us  at  bay  upon  the  frozen  Danube, 
trusting  that  they  could  fight  famously  on  the  masses 
of  ice,  their  horses  being  much  better  accustomed  to 
slippery  ground  than  ours;  but  we  threw  our  shields 
upon  the  ice,  stood  on  them,  and  then  drew  ov,er  to  us 
our  horses  and  riders  at  once,  and  we  fought  a  magnifi- 
cent battle.  Also  in  the  two  succeeding  battles  the 
Marcomanni  and  Jazygan  were  well  hupibled.  Another 
time,  when  the  Danube  was  free  of  ice,  we  wished  to 
frighten  the  barbarians,  and  sent  amongst  them  some 
lions  we  had  just  received  from  Rome.  The  animals 
crossed  the  stream  and  attacked  the  enemy,  who  bravely 
met  their  antagonists,  killed  them  with  their  clubs,  and 
stood  laughing  and  exulting  over  their  newly  acquired 
booty. 

"You  can  scarcely  believe,  dear  mother,  how  difficult 
it  is  to  conquer  such  an  enemy.  The  trumpets  of  war 
are  to  them  an  agreeable  music;  they  intrench  them- 
selves behind  their  fortifications,  and  wait  courageously 
for  the  attack.  To  fear,  they  are  strangers.  They  tie 
up  deserters  to  the  enemy,  as  cowards,  and  those  who 
take  to  flight  are  suffocated  without  mercy  in  the  swamps 
and  morasses.  But  incomparably  worse  than  all  this  is 
their  climate,  which  is  so  cold  and  damp,  that  we  have  a 
fog  nearly  every  day.  At  home  in  Athens,  months  pass 
on  and  the  heavens  cheer  us  with  their  clear  blue,  whilst 
in  Germany  we  find,  even  in  the  midst  of  summer, 
scarcely  a  cloudless  day.  O  how  I  now  prize  our  clear 
Grecian  climate !  The  fur  cloak  you  sent  me  by  Bogus 


120    NEWS    FROM    THE    SEAT    OF    WAR. 

is  of  the  greatest  service  to  me,  particularly  when  we 
sleep  in  the  cold  camp.  We  fought  our  best  battles  in 
the  hot  summer  days,  for,  though  the  Germans  bear 
hunger  and  cold  with  heroic  patience,  they  succumb  to 
thirst  and  heat  much  quicker  than  we  do.  Their  food 
would  not  suit  our  Athenian  epicures.  Many  of  them 
are  satisfied  with  crab-apples  and  thick  milk.  But  if 
they  had  as  much  beer  to  drink  as  they  can  take,  we 
could  vanquish  them  easier  by  their  drunkenness  than 
by  our  arms.  In  their  time  of  peace,  they  give  them- 
selves up  to  idleness  or  to  the  chase.  The  principal 
difference  existing  between  the  Eomans  and  Germans  is, 
that  the  former  are  masters  in  eating,  and  the  latter  in 
drinking.  Not  long  since,  we  discovered  in  a  field  a 
large  mound,  and  on  a  nearer  approach,  we  curiously 
examined  it,  and  found  beneath,  huge  stores  of  apples, 
pears,  and  corn.  Suddenly  the  ground  gave  way,  and 
some  of  the  soldiers  fell  into  a  subterraneous  cave, 
whence,  alas!  they  never  more  came  out.  "We  were 
obliged  to  leave  them  behind  us,  and  discovered,  when 
too  late,  that  the  Germans,  with  wives,  children,  and  cat- 
tle, frequently  dwell  in  such  caves,  to  protect  themselves 
from  the  inclemency  of  Winter.  Dear  mother,  would 
you  could  see  these  gigantic,  hardy  men,  one  like  the 
other !  Their  clothing,  and  the  effects  of  the  climate, 
render  them  insusceptible  of  sickness.  They  generally 
die  of  old  age.  They  are  trained  up  in  such  endurance 
and  hardihood,  that  for  the  most  part  they  never  spend 
a  thought  on  either  their  clothing  or  their  food.  May 
those  souls  and  bodies,  which  know  nothing  of  effemi- 
nacy, riches,  or  debauchery,  receive  wisdom  and  well- 


NEWS    FROM    THE    SEAT    OF    WAR.     121 

ordered  armies.  Perhaps,  dear  mother,  you  would  like 
to  hear  a  little  about  the  religion  of  these  barbarians  ? 
I  regret  that  up  to  the  present  time  I  have  been  able  to 
learn  but  very  little  on  the  subject.  They  have  ancient 
poetry  from  time  immemorial,  and  this  is  the  only  trace 
of  knowledge  they  possess.  They  sing  of  a  god,  Tuisko, 
who  sprung  from  the  earth,  and  that  he  had  a  son,  called 
Mannus;  and  these  they  style  their  ancestors.  Also 
Mercury  is  held  by  them  in  great  veneration,  and  they 
bring  into  their  dark  forests  and  sacred  groves  all  those 
taken  in  war,  to  offer  them  to  him  in  sacrifice.  The 
reputation  they  have  gained  for  morality  is  well  founded. 
A  female  may  be  as  beautiful  and  rich  as  you  please,  but 
if  her  reputation  be  once  sullied,  she  falls  into  general 
contempt.  There  are  tribes  amongst  them  that  only 
marry  virgins,  and  the  widows  after  the  death  of  their 
husbands  remain  single.  Should  a  married  woman  in- 
jure her  husband's  honor  by  incontinency,  the  husband 
cuts  off  her  hair,  and  whips  her  with  rods  out  of  his 
dwelling,  in  the  presence  of  her  relations.  This  morality 
of  the  barbarians,  dear  mother,  we  do  not  find  amongst 
our  cultivated  people ;  but  I  can  assure  you,  that  in  our 
legion,  in  which  there  are  many  Cappadocian  Christians, 
quite  as  great  a  morality  reigns  as  among  the  barbarians. 
They  are  very  industrious ;  they  neither  drink  nor  swear, 
nor  make  what  are  called  soldiers'  jests.  They  believe 
in  one  only  God,  and  pray  to  Him  daily.  Nothing  is 
more  interesting  than  to  live  amongst  them. 

"  I  suppose  you  have  heard  that  Verus  is  no  more  ? 
He  was  sitting  in  the  chariot  with  Marcus  Aurelius, 

when  he  was  struck  with  apoplexy,  sank  on  his  shoulder, 
11 


122     NEWS    FROM    THE    SEAT    OF     WAR. 

and  expired.  His  body  was  not  embalmed,  but  buried 
in  the  land  of  the  barbarians.  The  day  previous  to  his 
death,  I  had  the  honor,  with  some  Greek  nobles^  of  being 
invited  to  dine  with  him.  I  acknowledge  that  I  was  not 
a  little  rejoiced  at  the  invitation,  after  having  been  nearly 
five  years  without  tasting  a  morsel  of  wholesome  food, 
leaving  delicacies  out  of  the  question.  The  banquet  far 
exceeded  our  expectations;  and  not  one  amongst  us 
could  comprehend  how  it  was  possible  in  this  country  to 
keep  so  luxurious  a  table.  The  Emperor  was  very  gay 
and  jested  with  me,  asking  me,  as  each  dish  was  placed 
on  the  table,  if  I  knew  its  name ;  to  my  answers  in  the 
affirmative,  he  always  replied,  '  Ah !  missed  the  mark ! ' 
and  then  gave  the  dish  its  German  name ;  so  that  we 
always  doubted  what  we  were  eating.  Still  more  choice 
were  the  wines.  Verus  had  three  cups  beside  him, — 
one  was  of  Alexandrian  crystal,  the  second  of  Oriental 
Myrrha,  a  material  unknown  to  any  of  us,  the  third  was 
of  gold,  and  set  with  precious  stones.  "When  we  drank 
the  health  of  the  Emperor,  he  gave  us  a  sign  to  keep 
our  cups.*  After  wine,  we  played  at  dice  till  the  morn- 
ing dawned.  Claudius  Pompeanus,  son  of  a  Roman 
knight,  was  my  companion  at  table.  He  was  astonished 
when  he  heard  my  name,  and  assured  me  that  he  had 
known  you  in  Rome.  That  must  certainly  have  been  a 
long  time  ago ;  and  when  I  told  him  that  I  intended  to 
send  you,  my  dear  mother,  a  present  of  my  valuable  cup, 
he  begged  that  I  would  afford  him  the  pleasure  of  hav- 
ing some  verses  engraved  on  it, 

*  It  is  related  that  this  Emperor  once  before  presented  his  guests  with  a 
chariot  each,  and  also  with  chariot-drivers. 


NEWS    FROM    THE    SEAT    OF    WAR.    123 

» 
"Bogus,  who  arrived  here   two   months   since,   and 

offered  himself  as  volunteer  in  the  cavalry,  could  relate 
to  you  what  beasts  there  are  in  the  dark  forests.  Not 
long  since,  he  was  dreadfully  beaten  through  mistake. 
Being  very  cold,  he  sought  to  bring  down  a  bear  for  the 
sake  of  the  skin.  On  our  arrival  at  the  camp  one  even- 
ing, after  an  engagement,  Bogus,  with  some  others,  re- 
turned again  to  the  hills,  where  we  had  left  some  dead 
bodies.  To  entice  the  bears  out  of  the  adjacent  forest, 
he  cut  the  head  off  a  German,  and  seizing  it  by  the  hair, 
threw  it  down  the  hill,  and  it  rolled  to  the  edge  of  the 
forest;  he  repeated  the  experiment,  and  at  length  he 
succeeded,  for  a  hungry  bear  made  his  appearance.  As 
soon  as  he  attacked  the  head,  Bogus  laid  him  low  with 
an  arrow.  He  stripped  off  the  skin  and  clothed  himself 
with  it  at  once.  So  muffled  up,  he  arrived  at  the  camp 
towards  dusk.  The  soldiers  were  taking  their  evening 
meal,  which  consists  of  bread  and  cheese,  and  beer,  a 
beverage  which  the  Germans  prepare  from  barley  and 
corn.  Suddenly  seeing  something  approach  that  had  the 
appearance  of  a  bear,  they  started  up,  rushed  out  upon 
him,  and  did  not  discover  their  mistake  till  he  had  been 
severely  beaten.  He  was  dreadfully  injured,  and  I  doubt 
much  if  he  will  ever  recover. 

"But  now,  my  dear  mother,  I  must  conclude;  the  cold 
prevents  me  from  writing  more.  What  should  lie  nearer 
to  my  heart  than  to  assure  thee  of  my  unbounded  filial 
love !  O  how  great  is  the  distance  between  thee  and  me ! 
—  yet  my  mind,  that  travels  without  the  aid  of  bark  or 
wing,  is  ever  near  thee.  You  are  in  the  south,  and  I,  in 
all  probability,  am  on  the  northern  boundaries  of  the 


124     NEWS    FROM    THE    SEAT    OF    WAR. 

globe.  The  human  race  has  only  extended  itself  as  far 
as  here.  It  may  be  possible  that,  after  a  few  hundred 
years,  these  forests  may  be  cleared  away,  and  cities  be 
reflected  in  the  waters  of  the  Danube ;  and  that  civiliza- 
tion will  extend  from  one  end  of  the  world  to  the  other. 
For  the  present,  I  believe,  with  our  poets,  that  Delphi  is 
the  central  point  of  the  earth,  and  that  there  mankind 
thinks  and  works  longer,  and  therefore  they  are  more 
cultivated.  "What  a  secret,  dear  mother,  lies  in  this 
growth  of  nations,  and  what  an  answer  our  mind  receives, 
when  it  returns  to  the  cradle  of  our  origin,  and  asks 
itself  as  to  the  beginning  and  end  of  the  world's  history ! 
But  where  am  I  ? 

"  I  hope  a  few  months  will  see  me  return  rich  in  years, 
in  experience,  and  in  the  deeds  of  a  brave  soldier,  to 
give  a  lasting  proof  of  my  filial  gratitude  to  thy  loving 
heart.  Farewell ! " 

Such  were  the  contents  of  the  letter  that  Metella  had 
lying  before  her  on  the  table.  She  is  dreaming,  —  she 
starts,  and  shrinks  as  it  were  from  an  invisible  hand. 
She  raises  herself  from  her  couch,  and  quickly  gives  a 
sign  for  Lydia  to  enter. 

"  Have  you  not  just  heard  the  angry  screaming  of  an 
owl  ?  "  said  she,  as  Lydia  approached.  Lydia  answered 
in  the  negative,  and  added  that  she  had  been  standing  at 
the  open  casement  of  her  little  apartment,  listening  to 
the  playing  waters  of  the  fountain,  and  admiring  the 
majestic  silence  and  beauty  of  the  night. 

"  I  must  have  dreamed  then  that  I  heard  an  owl  cry. 
Do  you  understand  the  interpretation  of  dreams  ?  Per- 
haps, as  a  Christian,  you  can  explain  to  me  the  meaning 


NEWS   FROM    THE   SEAT   OF    WAR.      125 

of  mine.  Listen  to  me :  After  having  finished  reading 
my  son's  letter,  I  sank  into  a  soft  slumber.  It  appeared 
as  if  everything  were  dark  around  me.  I  wished  to  go 
forward,  but  I  was  without  a  light,  and  I  could  not  find 
a  road,  because  of  the  darkness.  You  were  near  me, 
and  were  my  only  guide.  Over  my  head  I  observed  a 
light,  which  gradually  increased  in  brightness.  This 
light  proceeded  from  a  mountain ;  at  its  foot  was  a  flight 
of  marble  steps,  which  appeared  to  reach  to  the  summit. 
I  perceived  at  a  great  height  a  magnificent  garden,  in 
which  were  an  immense  number  of  female  forms  clothed 
in  white,  and  they  appeared  to  be  in  constant  motion. 
Far  beyond  these,  I  saw  a  most  dignified  being, 
clothed  as  a  shepherd,  and  seated  on  a  magnificent 
throne.  His  appearance,  though  imposing,  had  nothing 
in  it  to  terrify.  His  throne  was  so  high,  that  the  white- 
robed  multitude  appeared  far  beneath  him,  while  they 
with  uplifted  eyes  gazed  unceasingly  on  his  loving 
countenance.  His  garment  changed  suddenly  to  that  of 
a  dazzling  white,  his  heart  was  visible,  round  which 
were  rays  far  brighter  than  the  sun,  which  cast  streams 
of  light  upon  the  worshipping  multitude,  who  sank  ever 
and  anon  upon  their  knees  before  him,  and  looked  like 
little  lambs  round  their  shepherd.  But  what  was  most 
strange,  at  his  feet  I  saw  a  youth  who  resembled  my 
son  Lucius,  and  who  beckoned  me  to  join  him;  a  naked 
sword  lay  by  his  side,  and  he  was  reclining  on  his 
shield.  Then  a  longing  desire  seized  me  to  climb  the 
marble  steps.  I  pressed  forward,  but  I  felt  as  though 
my  feet  were  bound  to  the  earth.  You  then  conducted 
mo  to  the  steps;  but  as  I  approached,  a  dragon,  with 
11* 


126       NEWS   FROM   THE    SEAT    OF    WAR. 

eyes  flashing  fire  and  licking  a  deep  wound  on  his  left 
side,  prevented  my  ascending.  Retreating  with  horror, 
I  perceived  an  owl  perched  on  the  protruding  branch 
of  a  decayed  tree ;  it  flapped  its  wings  and  screamed 
angrily  at  me;  my  strength  failed,  I  lay  prostrate  on 
the  earth,  and  awoke  with  the  screaming  of  the  owl  still 
ringing  in  my  ears. 

''Now  tell  me  what  is  the  meaning  of  that  magnifi- 
sent  being  and  the  heart  surrounded  with  rays;  and 
why  did  I  see  my  Lucius  reclining  at  the  feet  of  that 
shepherd  ?  " 

Lydia  did  not  dare  to  trust  herself  in  giving  the  sig- 
nification of  this  dream,  and  therefore  answered,  "My 
good  mistress,  pardon  me  if  I  do  not  feel  myself  capable 
of  interpreting  your  dream.  I  beg  of  you  to  request 
the  explanation  of  it  from  those  who  are  more  capable 
than  I  am.  According  to  your  description,  it  was,  per- 
haps, the  Son  of  God  Himself,  who  has  revealed  to  you 
his  magnificence.  He  was  designated,  while  on  earth, 
as  the  '  Good  Shepherd,'  and  his  followers  flocked  round 
Him  like  lambs.  Once  they  beheld  him  on  the  summit 
of  a  mountain  and  shining  like  the  sun.  But  I  am 
quite  unable  to  explain  the  entire  vision.  We  have  in 
Athens  holy  men,  true  disciples  of  their  Master,  who 
know  their  Lord,  and  can  tell  you  much  of  Him.  They 
will  also  be  able  to  explain  your  dream  correctly." 

"Do  you  believe,  Lydia,"  said  Metella,  "that  the 
philosopher  Athenagoras,  who  became  a  Christian,  and 
who  formerly  visited  me,  would  still  consent  to  hold 
converse  with,  and  advise  a  heathen  ?  " 


NEWS   FROM   THE   SEAT    OF    WAR.      127 

"  Dear  mistress,  as  a  Christian  he  is  more  at  your  ser- 
vice than  ever."  * 

"Then,  if  you  think  so,  send  to-morrow  early  and 
invite  him.  He  is  certain  to  be  found  in  Plato's  acade- 
my :  I  meet  him  there  sometimes,  standing  at  the  tomb 
of  the  immortal  philosopher." 


CHAPTER    XI. 
ATHENAGORAS. 

•  YDIA  was  only  too  happy  to  convey  Me- 
tella's  desire  for  an  interview  to  the  re- 
nowned philosopher,  who  cheerfully  and 
promptly  accepted  the  invitation,  and  at  the 
appointed  hour  he  found  himself  seated  by 
the  side  of  the  illustrious  matron.  This 
learned  man  was  as  well  read  in  polite  liter- 
ature, as  in  the  Eastern  and  Grecian  philoso- 
phy. He  hung  so  ardently  on  Christianity,  that  some 
years  later  he  advocated  the  cause  of  the  Christians 
with  the  Emperor  Marcus  Aurelius.  A  philosopher  of 
the  Eclectic  school,  he  collected  from  all  systems  what 
agreed  most  with  his  ideas.  He  besought  the  Emperor 
to  observe  the  same  clemency  towards  the  .Christians  he 
exercised  towards  the  religions  of  so  many  other  nations 
under  his  sway.  Metella  commenced  the  conversation 
by  assuring  Athenagoras,  that  she  did  not  belong  to 
those  who  despised  Christians,  for  she  had  often  heard 
from  her  deceased  father,  that  the  Christian  doctrine 
made  those  who  lived  according  to  its  dictates,  moral 

(128) 


ATHENAGORAS.  129 

/ 

and  happy ;  *  and  that  lately  she  had  an  opportunity  of 
becoming  better  acquainted  with  it,  and  her  esteem  for 
it  was  increased.  She  said  that  one  of  her  slaves  was  a 
Christian,  and  she  had  often  related  to  her  about  the 
Founder  of  her  religion.  "But  yesterday,  having  had 
an  extraordinary  dream,  which  my  slave  would  not  un- 
dertake to  interpret,  I  availed  myself  of  an  assurance 
she  made  me,  that  you  would  solve  its  meaning.  It 
appeared  to  me  as  though  I  saw  a  shepherd,  who  was 
at  the  same  time  a  king,  in  the  midst  of  a  host  of  beings 
clothed  in  white.  I  felt  a  holy  awe  before  this  shepherd, 
I  worshipped  him  in  the  distance,  and  felt  that  I  loved 
him.  Oh  teach  me  to  know  him ! "  After  having  re- 
lated to  him  her  entire  dream,  she  begged  the  philoso- 
pher to  explain  to  her  its  meaning.  After  a  moment's 
reflection  he  told  her  tnat  he  considered  her  dream  as  a 
favor  from  God,  and  one  which  in  every  respect  would 
carry  that  good  with  it,  that  from  the  present  time  for- 
ward she  would  entertain  a  new  interest  for  Christianity. 
From  the  details-of  her  dream  he  took  occasion  to  speak 
to  her  about  Christ,  who  is  truly  the  Shepherd  of  his 
flocks,  and  to  describe  to  her  the  happiness  of  the  life  to 
come. 

"  Do  you  know,"  said  he,  "  that  that  king  is  the  only 
Son  of  God.  and  of  the  same  nature  with  the  Father  and 
the  Holy  Ghost.  Are  you  acquainted  with  the  doctrine 
of  the  unity  of  God  in  the  Trinity  ?  " 

Metella  replied,  "I  know  the  Platonic  doctrine  of 
original  existence;  and  I  know  also  that  Plato  com- 

*Atticus  was  obliged  to  declare  in  writing  to  the  Emperor  Antoninus  Pius 
his  approbation  of  Christianity. 
I 


130  ATHENAGORAS. 

manded  us  to  swear  by  God,  the  disposer  of  all  present 
and  future  things.  I  am  aware,  also,  that  the  Christians 
consider  that  the  statue  of  Jupiter  at  Elis,  with  its  three 
heads,  has  some  signification.  But  allow  me  to  say  what 
I  think  of  such  doctrines.  I  think  that  no  mortal  is 
capable  of  comprehending  the  existence  of  the  Divinity. 
Is  not  that  a  beautiful  inscription  that  the  Egyptians 
have  written  over  the  statue  of  the  God  at  Sais: — 'I  am 
the  All  that  has  been,  that  is,  and  that  is  to  be,  and  no 
mortal  has  yet  raised  my  veil '  ?  * 

"You  ask  me  if  I  know  the  Christian  doctrine  of  the 
Triune  Deity.  It  could  not  have  been  explained  to  me 
in  fewer  words,  than  I  heard  it  not  long  since,  by  a 
comparison  from  my  Christian  slave.  'God,'  said  she, 
'is  one  in  His  nature  just  like  the  tree;  the  roots,  stem 
and  branches  of  which  are  penetrated  by  the  same  ex- 
istence. As  the  stem  proceeds  from  the  roots,  so  is  the 
Son  generated  by  the  Father,  and  as  the  branches  of 
the  tree  proceed  from  the  stem  and  roots,  so  does  the 
Holy  Spirit  proceed  alike  from  the  Father  and  the  Son.' 
— But,  Athenagoras,  how  many  things  can  be  made  clear 
to  us  by  comparisons !  Allow  me  to  expatiate  a  little 
longer  on  my  comprehension  of  the  Divinity.  Man  is 
the  world  in  miniature,  his  body  is  the  picture  of  the 
earth,  and  his  soul  the  reflection  of  the  Divinity.  Who- 
ever has  formed  the  human  body  has  taken  the  earth 
for  his  model.  We  have  a  proof  of  this  in  our  own 
members,  —  our  bones  and  flesh  are  of  earth,  our  veins 
are  the  streams,  the  waters  of  which  are  called  blood. 
The  air  is  converted  into  breath,  and  in  order  that  the 

*  Plutarch  Is.  9. 


ATHENAGORAS.  131 

sun  and  moon  may  enlighten  all  this,  and  be  reflected 
in  the  human  body,  he  has  given  us  eyes.  But  one  re- 
mark more,  Athenagoras,  and  then  I  conclude.  Of  this 
magnificent  body,  this  masterpiece  of  visible  nature,  an 
invisible  spirit  takes  possession,  governs  it  and  pene- 
trates it  in  all  its  parts,  and  this  spirit  is  one.  And  so 
it  may  be  one,  and  only  one,  who  created  this  visible 
world,  and  this  one  we  call  Jupiter — Jupiter  with  his 
divine  spirit  and  divine  understanding.  So  you  have 
another  comparison,  or,  if  1  may  say  so,  more  than  a 
comparison — a  proof  of  the  unity  of  God." 

"You  are  right,"  said  Athenagoras,  "and  I  participate 
in  your  views.  We  Christians  say  also,  there  is  only 
one  God,  as  the  soul  of  man  is  one ;  but  have  you  for- 
gotten that  this  soul  of  man  is  a  three  in  one  ?  " 

"  How  so  ?  "  asked  the  heathen. 

"  One,"  replied  Athenagoras,  "  is  the  memory,  another 
the  understanding,  and  the  third  the  will  of  man ;  and 
yet  our  thinking,  understanding  and  willing,  though 
three,  are  only  one." 

Metella  reflected :  — "  Oh  yes,  I  remember  Plutarch 
also  defended  the  three  powers  in  man.  If  the  soul  be 
created  after  the  image  of  God,  so  also  can  the  Trinity 
be  already  in  the  Soul,  an  ordering,  willing,  and  loving 
God.  Possible  also  that  our  own  hearts  are  a  reflection 
of  the  heart  of  that  loving  son,  who  out  of  pity  for  sin- 
ful man,  as  you  say,  took  our  nature  upon  Him,  and  be- 
came the  Shepherd  of  the  people.  But  let  us  return  to 
this  shepherd  whom  I  saw  in  my  dream.  Oh,  He  looked 
so  mild  upon  those  who  stood  round  Him !  and  so  lov- 
ingly on  my  son,  who  clung  to  his  feet !  Tell  me  how 


132  ATHENAGORAS. 

did  my  Lucius  obtain  admittance  into  this  divine  com- 
pany?" 

"  Perhaps,"  replied  Athenagoras,  "  that  your  son,  dur- 
ing this  campaign,  has  made  himself  acquainted  with 
Christianity,  and  has  united  himself  with  confidence  to 
its  Founder,  by  which  he  enjoys  undoubted  peace  and 
feels  himself  supremely  happy." 

"  But  what  does  this  mean  ?  "  said  she,  "  I  saw  him 
raise  his  hand  and  beckon  to  me  so  earnestly  as  if  he 
would  say,  'Come  to  me.'  Durst  then  a  heathen  enter 
where  those  blessed  beings  are  crowding  round  their 
king?" 

"  When  he  beckoned,  he  thereby  expressed  his  hap- 
piness and  a  wish  for  you  to  participate.  To  attain  the 
height  on  which  Christ  had  His  throne,  two  things  deter 
you ;  and  it  appears  to  me  that  now  I  come  nearer  to 
the  meaning  of  the  vision.  By  the  dragon  that  you 
perceived  on  one  side,  and  the  owJ.  on  the  other,  the  first 
signified,  according  to  our  books  of  revelation,  no  other 
than  the  origin  of  all  evil  from  the  beginning  of  the 
world,  whom  we  call  Satan.*  He  tries  to  hold  man- 
down  to  the  earth,  leads  him  to  sin,  and  tempts  him  to 
it;  and  those  who  give  themselves  to  his  service,  he 
brings  at  last  altogether  in  one  place,  where  they  are 
perpetually  tormented  like  your  Tantalus.f  He  also 
seeks  to  deter  you;  he  does  not  wish  that  you  gain 
Christ  and  the  happiness  of  Heaven.  The  Eedeemer 
has  weakened  the  power  of  Satan,  but  has  not  entirely 

*  Apocalypse,  c.  K.  22,  2. 

f  Tantalus  tormented  with  a  parching  thirst  bends  to  the  wave,  which 
each  time  recedes  from  his  lips,  and  returns  as  he  removes  his  head.  Odys- 
sey, XI,  5822. 


ATIIENAGORAS.  133 

destroyed  it ;  and  therefore  Satan  resembles  a  wounded 
dragon,  as  you  describe.  But  it  is  not  he  alone  that 
separates  you  from  Christ;  there  is  also  another  hinder- 
ance  which  makes  your  union  with  Him  difficult ;  and 
this  is  signified  by  the  owl.  Minerva,  the  goddess  of 
wisdom,  aud  the  guardian  of  this  our  city,  which  is 
acknowledged  to  be  the  asylum  of  the  intellectual,  is 
represented  by  the  owl.  It  signifies  human  wisdom, 
which  is  folly  before  God.  Philosophy  endeavors  to 
acknowledge  this  contest,  and  would  like  to  attain, 
through  its  own  strength,  the  altitude  of  truth.  But 
for  this  its  wings  are  too  weak.  O,  how  modestly  Plato 
expresses  himself  when  he  says,  'One  must  bring  to- 
gether the  best  of  human  proofs,  and  then  venture  upon 
them  as  on  a  raft  through  the  tide  of  life,  but  still  he 
thinks  one  can  sail  more  securely,  and  with  less  danger, 
in  a  stronger  ship  on  a  Divine  Word.'*  This  divine 
word,  Christ  has  spoken,  and  this  firm  ship  is  the 
Church." 

"You  must  pardon  me,  Athenagoras,  if,  just  like  an 
ignorant  child,  I  ask  you  many  things  about  your  sys- 
tem. What  did  you  mean  when  you  spoke  of  a  bad 
principle  and  of  a  Tantalus  torment  prepared  for  the 
wicked  ?  " 

"As  the  good,"  answered  he,  "will  be  once  with  God, 
the  source  of  good,  for  all  eternity,  so  must  the  wicked 
be  with  the  father  of  wickedness,  for  all  eternity,  and 
for  ever  separated  from  God.  As  the  reward  of  the 
good  will  be  without  end,  so  will  the  punishment  of  the 

*  Scmmias  to  Socrates  in  Plato's  Phadon. 
12 


134  ATHENAGORAS. 

wicked  be  everlasting ;  and  this  is  one  of  the  most  im- 
portant dogmas  of  Christianity."* 

"  In  this  respect,"  replied  Metella,  "  Christ  and  Plato 
quite  agree ;  both  teach,  that  the  good  will  be  happy, 
and  the  wicked  unhappy.  Plato  says:  'Those  who  have 
led  a  pure  and  well-ordered  life,  receive  the  gods  as 
friends  and  guides,  and  dwell  with  them ;  while  those, 
who  on  account  of  their  greatness  of  crimes  remain  im- 
penitent, sink  their  fate  in  the  well-merited  Tartarus, 
whence  they  never  more  return.'  But  Plato  mentions 
another  place,  Acheron,  whither  all  the  imperfect  were 
sent.  '  Those  who  are  there,'  said  he,  '  will  do  penance 
for  their  faults,  and  when  they  are  purified  will  be  lib- 
erated.' *  If  then  there  are  those  different  places,  do  you 
not  believe  that,  according  to  my  dream,  my  son  will 
one  day  be  counted  among  the  blessed?  for  you  know  I 
saw  him  near  your  God."  "No  doubt," replied  Athen- 
agoras.  "  And  I,"  said  Metella,  "  if  I  attend  to  the  advice 
of  Plato,  where  he  wills  that  no  one  shall  change  the 
religion  of  his  ancestors,  and  remain  a  heathen,  do  you 
believe  that  I  shall  one  day  be  received  into  the  king- 
dom of  Light  where  my  son  feels  himself  so  happy  ?  " 

"  "When  you  have  once  learned  what  Christianity  is, 
and  by  the  means  of  grace  have  acknowledged  it  as  the 
one  truth,  then,  Metella,  the  Divinity  and  your  own  un- 
derstanding will  require  from  you  to  proclaim  this  truth 
openly,  and  not  till  this  happens  can  you  hope  to  attain 
this  heavenly  enjoyment ;  but  if  after  this  you  persevere 
in  error  through  a  vain  fear  of  man,  you  will  never  be 
one  of  that  company  in  which  you  beheld  your  son," 

*  All  these  three  states  are  taken  out  of  Plato's  Phadon. 


ATHENAGORAS.  135 

"  What,  Athenagoras,  do  you  think  it  possible  that  a 
son  could  feel  himself  happy  if  he  thought  that  his 
mother  were  in  eternal  misery  ?  Oh  what  a  sorrowful 
happiness  would  that  be  for  my  Lucius,  to  know  that 
his  mother  was  in  a  place  of  torment ! " 

"  As  the  rain  falling  into  the  ocean  partakes  of  the 
quality  of  the  waters  with  which  it  mingles,  so  do  the 
souls  of  the  just  partake  so  much  of  the  qualities  of  the 
Divinity,  and  consequently  of  the  love  of  justice,  that 
they  hate  what  He  'hates,  and  love  what  He  loves,  and 
it  would  displease  them  as  much  as  God  Himself,  if  the 
wicked  were  to  be  rewarded  with  eternal  happiness." 

"  I  do  not  understand  this  exactly,  but  I  think  I  can 
guess  what  you  mean :  that  there  is  in  the  other  life 
merely  a  relationship  either  with  the  good  or  the  wicked. 
But  how  could  I  avoid  drawing  down  upon  me  the  hatred 
of  some  one  or  other  of  the  divinities,  were  I  to  wor- 
ship the  God  of  the  Christians,  and  thereby  fail  in  my 
fidelity  to  the  religion  of  my  ancestors  ?  " 

"  You  speak  now,  Metella,  of  several  divinities,  which 
you  confidently  look  upon  as  servants  of  the  great 
Jupiter:  there  are  no  gods — therefore  no  hatred  amongst 
the  gods.  You  are  still  unable  to  attain  the  conviction 
that  all  power,  in  Heaven  and  on  earth,  streams  forth, 
not  from  a  plurality  of  gods,  but  from  one  God  alone, 
and  just  in  that  respect  is  the  difference  between  the 
faith  of  the  Christian  and  that  of  the  heathen.  Accord- 
ing to  the  views  of  the  heathen,  Heaven  has  its  Jupiter, 
the  sun  his  Helios,  the  sea  its  Posidon,  the  fountains 
their  Naiades,  the '  tree  its  Dryas,  and  even  the  reed  its 
Syrinx.  On  the  contrary,  according  to  Christian  doc- 


136  ATHENAGORAS. 

trine,  there  reigns  in  Heaven  and  on  earth  but  one  Al- 
mighty God,  and  the  spirit  of  this  same  God  shines 
forth  in  the  sun,  and  moves  upon  the  face  of  the  waters. 
He  has  care  for  the  tree  and  the  flower,  and  forgets  not, 
in  His  fatherly  protection,  the  smallest"  blade  of  grass. 
The  thoughts  of  God  are  shed  in  millions  of  beams  on 
all  creatures;  He  is  the  centre  whence  all  proceeds. 
Yes,  Metella,  God  is  only  one.  and  this  one  God  requires 
from  you  that  you  acknowledge  Him  with  your  whole 
heart." 

"Beautiful  and  dignified  as  this  doctrine  is,  Athen- 
agoras,  and  though  it  agrees  so  much  with  my  spirit,  I 
feel  myself  as  yet  too  weak  to  acknowledge  it  openly." 

"Faith,"  continued  Athenagoras,  "is  a  gift  of  Divine 
Mercy ;  but  to  obtain  this  gift  of  Faith,  it  is  necessary 
that  you  should  withdraw  yourself  from  the  pleasures 
and  distractions  of  the  world,  and  give  yourself  tip  to 
prayer  in  silence  and  solitude.  Thus  have  all  those 
done  who  strove  after  the  Truth, — yes,  even  the  disci- 
ples of  our  own  great  sages.  The  voice  of  God  allows 
itself  only  to  be  heard  in  the  soul  of  man  when  all  is 
still ;  but  if  God  has  once  commenced  to  speak,  His 
voice  is  as  loud  and  audible  as  the  rolling  of  thunder  in 
a  spacious  and  desolate  mountain  valley." 

"  Athenagoras,  can  you  answer  me  one  question  more? 
I  see  that  those  who  call  themselves  Christians  are  ready 
to  sacrifice  their  lives  for  their  faith.  With  the  cool 
blood  of  the  Spartan,  and  the  tranquillity  of  a  Socrates, 
they  undergo  martyrdom  and  death  for  Christ.  Whence 
comes  this  resolution,  this  living  conviction  ?  " 

"Ycu  put  questions,  Metella,  which  convince  me  that 


ATHENAGORAS.  137 

this  is  not  the  first  time  you  have  spoken  on  Christianity. 
All  those  who  seal  their  Faith  with  their  blood,  are  fully 
convinced  that  Christ  is  truly  the  Son  of  God.  Christ 
gave  proof  of  His  mission,  as  clear  as  the  sun,  often 
during  life,  and  particularly  in  the  last  days  before  His 
death.  He  told  the  Jews  publicly  that  He  was  the  Son 
of  God.  He  said  to  them  beforehand  that  He  should  be 
put  to  death,  and  that  on  the  third  day  He  would  rise 
again.  Yes,  and  He  was  brought  before  Pilate,  and  con 
jured  by  the  living  God  to  say  if  He  were  really  the 
Son  of  God.*  He  maintained  it,  although  He  knew  that 
his  death  would  follow  the  declaration.  After  His  death, 
His  side  was  pierced  with  a  lance,  and  His  body  laid  in 
the  grave,  and  that  grave  was  guarded  by  soldiers.  But 
on  the  third  day,  as  He  had  already  said,  He  rose  again 
by  His  own  power,  appeared  to  His  disciples,  and  showed 
Himself  on  many  occasions  to  several  hundreds  of  His 
followers.  All  those  who  saw  Him  believed  in  Him, 
and  they  preached  Him  to  the  world ;  and  not  alone 
those  proclaimed  His  doctrine,  but  all  whom  He  had 
strengthened,  previous  to  His  death,  by  the  numerous 
miracles  He  had  worked.  Therefore,  as  Quadratus,  the 
former  Bishop  of  Athens,  f  declares  in  one  of  his  writ- 
ings, the  sick  whom  Jesus  healed,  and  the  dead  He 
brought  to  life,  were  not  a  passing  vision,  for  those  very 
persons  remained  with  Him  upon  earth ;  and  some,  added 

*  The  High  Priest  said  to  Him,  "I  conjure  Thee  by  the  living  God  that 
you  tell  us  if  you  are  the  Son  of  God."  Jesus  answered  him,  "  Thou  hast 
said  it."  Matt.  xxvi. 

f  This  Bishop  Quadratus  is  not  to  be  understood  as  the  Quadratus  of  H 
later  period.     The  above  was  the  successor  of  St.  Publius,  and  was  appointed 
to  the  Episcopacy  of  Athens  125  years  after  the  birth  of  Christ. 
12* 


138  ATHENAGORAS. 

the  same  Bishop,  lived  not  only  after  the  ascension  of 
our  Lord,  but  even  up  to  his  own  time.  We  all  ac- 
knowledge this  belief  with  joyful  hearts,  and  it  affords 
us  comfort  in  this  life,  and  a  happy  assurance  of  a 
better." 

"  Not  so  fast,  Athenagoras ;  but  so  far  you  may  rest 
assured,  that  I  will  follow  your  advice  with  regard  to  re- 
tirement, to  help  me  in  reflecting  diligently  on  the  dig- 
nified doctrine  of  Christianity,  and  daily  beg  of  the 
unknown  God,  to  whom  you  have  drawn  me  nearer,  that 
He  will  make  Himself  known  to  me." 


CHAPTER    XII. 


THE    COUNTRY    SEAT    AT    ELEUSIS. 


EFOBE  the  rich  Domina  arrives  at  her 
f;?-V  country-seat,  which  bears  the  simple  ap- 
pellation "Theretron,"  or  "Summer- Seat," 
we  will  invite  our  gentle  readers  to  visit  this 
magnificent  Villa,  situated  at  a  short  distance 
from  Eleusis.  It  is  only  half  a  day's  journey 
from  Athens,  and  can  be  as  easily  attained 
across  the  Piraus  and  the  sea,  as  by  the  so-called  "  Holy 
Street"  or  "Sacred  Way."  Outside  Eleusis  is  a  rich 
and  well-watered  plain  called  the  "Thriasische  Field;" 
and  although  not  a  drop  of  rain  has '  fallen  for  some 
months  over  this  land,  still  the  corn,  refreshed  by  the 
night-dews,  stands  in  all  its  rich  beauty,  and  the  country 
has  not  yet  exhibited  that  weary,  desolate  appearance 
which  in  Greece  returns  every  year  with  the  beginning 
of  the  second  harvest.  Upon  this  plain  stand  various- 
sized  statues  of  Pan,*  twined  with  the  Acanthus  and 
wild  flowers,  which  the  artistic  taste  of  the  Greeks  knew 
so  well  how  to  arrange,  and  which  thereby  diversified 


*  Pan,  the  god  of  the  fields. 


(139) 


140     THE    COUNTRY  SEAT   AT   ELEUSIS. 

the  otherwise  monotonous  appearance  of  this  flat  country. 
Countless  numbers  of  sunburnt  hands  are  everywhere 
occupied  in  collecting  the  gifts  of  Ceres,  to  store  them 
up  for  the  "Winter.  Here  we  meet  beasts  of  burden, 
watering  in  the  cisterns,  and  drawing  their  heavily-laden 
wagons.  In  the  distance  are  to  be  seen  herds  of  goats, 
feeding  on  the  rich  pasture;  while  the  goatherds  are 
playing  cheerfully  on  their  reed  pipes.  On  the  sides  of 
yonder  little  green  undulating  mounds,  long  terraces  are 
erected,  for  the  cultivation  of  the  vine,  of  that  peculiar 
sort  which  grows  in  Corinth,  and  the  fruit  of  which  is 
exported  to  different  countries  under  the  name  of  cur- 
rants. On  the  top  are  dirty  little  fellows,  dressed  in 
goat-skin,  lying  lazily  about,  under  the  shade  of  the  elm- 
trees,  and  refreshing  themselves  occasionally  with  the 
first-fruits  of  the  vine.  The  higher  hills  towards  the 
North  are  covered  with  palms  and  other  forest- trees ; 
and  in  the  background,  the  scene  is  completed  by  the 
"Hb'henzug  of  the  Katharon,"  uniting  itself  to  the  rug- 
ged and  light  blue  Parnassus  with  its  cloud-capped 
summit. 

Metella's  charming  Villa  was  situated  on  a  gradually 
sloping  hill ;  at  the  foot  flowed  the  silvery  waters  of  the 
Saramanta,  on  whose  fertile  banks  flourished  in  abun- 
dance, the  laurel  and  the  dark  myrtle,  and  the  slopes 
were  studded  with  clumps  of  the  Tamarisk  and  box- 
trees.  The  Yilla  was  surrounded  on  every  side,  except 
that  facing  E  leu  sis,  with  groves  of  palms.  From  the 
centre  of  the  building  rose  a  high  turret,  whence  a 
charming  view  of  the  surrounding  country  could  be  ob- 
tained. On  one  side,  the  level  plain  opened  to  the  sea, 


THE    COUNTRY  SEAT   AT  EL  E  US  IS.     141 

on  whose  shores  stood  the  rich  trading-town  of  Eleusis, 
in  the  centre  of  which  rose,  in  imposing  grandeur,  the 
renowned  temple  of  Demetrius,  famed  for  the  so-called 
"Eleusian  Mysteries."  Every  year,  at  the  commerfce- 
ment  of  October,  a  great  procession  was  formed  at  Eleu- 
sis: and  four  days  previously,  the  festival  of  Demeter 
was  celebrated  at  Athens.  On  the  sixth  day,  the  child 
of  the  goddess  was,  in  the  midst  of  rejoicing,  carried  out 
through  the  sacred  gate  in  a  wicker  basket.  Priests  and 
officials  accompanied  the  statue,  and  those  in  the  pro- 
cession bore  agricultural  implements  and  ears  of  corn. 
On  the  seventh  night  of  the  festival,  the  form  of  conse- 
cration took  place,  and  the  vows  of  those  about  to  be 
initiated  into  the  Eleusian  mysteries  were  received.  The 
charm  of  this  worship  lay  in  the  mystery  of  it,  —  in  the 
lively  dramatical  representations,  —  in  the  co-operation 
of  all  the  arts  and  artistical  enjoyments  of  music,  song, 
and  dance,  —  in  the  dazzling  illuminations,  —  in  the 
effective  decorations, — in  the  most  refined  enjoyment  of 
the  senses,  —  and  above  all,  in  the  promises  of  a  happy 
future  after  death.  If  you  ask  in  what  these  mysteries 
consisted,  antiquity  gives  no  satisfactory  answer.  It 
was  strictly  forbidden  to  reveal  them ;  and  whoever  did 
so,  had  every  reason  to  dread  the  punishment  of  death. 
Plato  was  suspected  of  guessing  the  mysteries,  whereby  we 
may  infer  that  the  doctrine  of  his  philosophy  resembled 
that  of  the  Eleusian.  So  far,  it  is  certain  that  the  foun- 
dation of  this  ancient  worship,  which  existed  as  far  back 
as  the  time  in  which  the  lonians  moved  from  Attica  to 
Asia  Minor,  rested  on  a  certain  belief  in  a  future  state. 
"In  the  Eleusian,"  says  Cicero,  "one  learns  not  only  to 


142     THE    COUNTRY  SEAT  AT   E  LEU  SIS. 

live  happily  and  holily,  but  to  die  with  a  cheerful  hope." 
"Thrice  happy,"  says  Sophocles,  "are  those  mortals  who 
have  seen  these  consecrations  before  they  descend  to 
Hades.  For  them  alone  is  life  in  the  next  world ;  for 
others,  only  sorrow  and  afflictions."  The  more  noble 
and  refined  were  of  opinion  that  their  happiness  would 
consist  in  being  constantly  occupied  in  sweet  devotion ; 
but  the  greater  number  thought,  with  Plato,  that  they 
would  have  a  continual  enjoyment  of  the  senses,  and 
endless  intoxication.  But  we  cannot  be  very  far  wrong 
in  concluding,  that  those  mysteries  took  their  origin 
from  the  ancient  Patriarchs,  and  that  corrupt  actions  and 
doctrines  mingled  later  with  the  original  true  worship. 
No  wonder  then  if  the  ambitious  Eomans,  such  as  Octa- 
vius,  Adrian,  Antoninus,  and  Marcus  Aurelius,  had 
themselves  initiated  into  these  mysteries.  In  Athens, 
according  to  Lucian,  A.  D.  176,  there  was  but  one  man 
at  that  time  who  did  not  belong  to  this  worship.* 

Westerly  from  Eleusis,  expanding  wide,  are  fields  of 
rice,  with  its  dark-red  blossoms,  which  add  to  the 
beauty  of  this  flower-enamelled  plain.  Like  a  shee't  of 
silver  in  the  distance,  shine  the  smooth  waters  of  the 
lovely  bay  of  Salamis,  and  the  blue  mountains  of  this 
charming  island  rise  in  majestic  beauty,  thinly  veiled 
with  the  vapors  of  the  sea. 

*  As  the  Christian  Emperor  Valentinian,  A.  D.  376,  forbid  the  heathens  to 
hold  their  nocturnal  solemnities.  Praetextas,  Proconsul  of  Greece,  petitioned 
that  the  Eleusian  Mysteries  might  be  an  exception.  The  reasons  he  gave 
were,  first,  that  without  these  mysteries,  the  people  would  lead  a  comfortless 
life,  a  life  that  would  be  no  life,  because  it  would  be  deprived  of  those  cere- 
monies which  were  a  symbol  of  a  future  and  everlasting  life.  Second,  that  to 
separate  the  life  of  man  from  the  comforting  belief  of  a  future,  was  only  to  be 
compared  to  a  living  death. 


THE    COUNTRY  SEAT  AT  ELEUSIS.     143 

To  the  East  is.  the  "Sacred  "Way,"  that  leads  from 
Athens,  and  winds  itself,  serpent-like,  along  the  shore. 
Where  it  once  lay,  are  now,  in  many  parts,  impassable 
swamps.  Here  and  there,  at  prominent  points  of  view, 
could  be  seen  magnificent  monuments  containing  the 
ashes  of  renowned  Greeks.  Those  tombs  in  the  "  Sacred 
Way"  extend  as  far  as  Kerameikos,  interrupted  now 
and  then  by  little  oratories  to  Jupiter,  Phoebus,  Aphro- 
dite, and  to  some  of  the  great  heroes ;  so  that  this  scene 
transported  the  traveller  to  the  "  Via  Appia "  in  Eome, 
so  great  was  the  resemblance. 

How  deceptive  is  the  sea!  It  smiles  at  times  as 
friendly  as  a  lake.  There  was  a  day  on  which  the 
waters  of  Salamis  ran  red  with  the  blood  of  the  Persians. 
Thousands  of  them  found  their  death  in  this  bay, — 
their  iron,  their  gold,  and  the  Eastern  decorations  of 
their  generals,  lie  buried  in  its  depths,  whence  no  hand 
can  draw  forth  the  sunken  treasures.* 

To  the  present  day,  the  Greeks  look  down  proudly 
from  the  heights  of  Salamis,  when  they  think  of  the 
conquests  of  the  ancient  Hellenes,  without  which  the 
entire  history  of  Europe  would  have  had  quite  another 
aspect.  And  yonder,  where  now  the  light-hearted  fisher- 
man tunes  his  song,  thoughtless  of  the  past,  once  nour- 
ished, on  the  shores  of  Corinth,  the  two  cities  Helice 
and  Buris,  which  in  one  eventful  day  vanished  from  the 
earth,  and  sank  beneath  that  blue  sea,  leaving  not  a 
trace  behind.f 

*  On  the  last  day  before  the  final  battle,  Themistocles  took  three  captives, 
nephews  of  Xerxes  king  of  Persia.  At  a  sacrifice  not  long  after,  he  drank 
a  quantity  of  ox  blood,  to  which  Plutaroh  ascribed  his  death. 

f  This  event  took  place  A.  D.  370. 


144      THE    COUNTRY  SEAT  AT   ELEUS1S. 

To  observe  some  order  on  our  entrance  to  the  Villa, 
let  us  first  visit  the  Urbana  or  Castle,  then  the  Rustica 
or  Stabling,  and  lastly,  the  Fructuaria  or  Granaries. 

The  entire  front  of  the  Villa  presented  to  the  view  a 
princely  palace  built  in  the  form  of  a  hollow  square, 
and  bore  a  strong  resemblance  to  Metella's  mansion  in 
Athens.  The  windows  were  of  a  transparent  material,* 
and  sheltered  from  the  sun  by  framed  blinds. 

The  gate-keeper  was  standing  near  the  Corinthian 
pillars,  which  were  twenty  feet  in  length,  supporting 
the  vestibule,  and  beside  him  was  a  majestic  watch-dog 
of  the  favorite  Eperean  race.  The  dog  appeared  to  be 
a  vigilant  guard.  Over  the  entrance  was  his  likeness  in 
Mosaic,  and  under  it  the  following  inscription,  "Protect 
yourself  against  the  Protector." 

The  entrance-hall  was  profusely  ornamented  on  each 
side  with  numerous  busts.  To  the  right. were  the  ances- 
tors of  Atticus,  on  the  left,  those  of  Metellus.  Those  in 
Parian  marble,  and  particularly  the  ones  of  more  recent 
date,  were  finished  in  a  style  worthy  of  a  Scopas  or  a 
Praxiteles.  Peeping  from  behind  the  statues,  were  the 
laughing  faces  of  lovely  little  boys,  painted  on  the 
Lotus  flower,  with  the  finger  on  the  lip,  and  with  an  ex- 
pression of  caution  on  the  countenance,  which  clearly 
conveyed  to  the  visitor  the  idea  that  the  statues  of  those 
great  men  must  be  approached  in  silence.  In  another 
part  of  the  Hall  were  copies  of  Polygnots,  from  the 
Stoa  Poikile  in  Athens,  amongst  which  stood  the  Phi- 
losopher Zeno,  who,  when  living,  might  have  been  seen 
in  that  gallery  of  paintings. 

*  A  mineral  called  moonstone  was  used  by  the  ancients  for  windows,  pre- 
viously to  the  invention  of  glass. 


THE    COUNTRY   SEAT  AT   E  LEU  SIS.      145 

Alabaster  statues,  crystal  vases,  large  candelabra  of 
white  marble,  numerous  smaller  figures  in  transparent 
stone,  or  the  famous  Corinthian  bronze,  stood  here  and 
there  in  this  richly  decorated  hall.  After  having  passed 
this  hall,  which  ran  right  through  the  front  portion  of 
the  palace,  we  enter  the  square  court-yard  which  was 
enclosed  on  every  side  by  the  wings  of  the  building, 
and  with  a  treble  pillared  colonnade  all  round.  What 
a  mass  of  curiosities  here  present  themselves ! 

Inside  the  fluted  pillars  were  to  be  seen  a  little  forest 
of  the  choicest  shrubs,  varieties  of  grasses,  cool  mossy 
turfs,  and  rustic  seats.  The  centre  of  this  square  was 
occupied  by  a  fountain,  whose  playing  waters  rose  to  an 
immense  height,  and  falling  again  into  an  expansive 
basin,  refreshed  all  around.  In  smaller  basins,  supplied 
by  water  from  the  fountain,  were  sparkling  gold-fish, 
sailing  about  in  the  cooling  fluid,  and  turning  to  the 
sun  in  playful  gambolling  their  fiery  scales.  Birds  with- 
out number,  warbling  in  the  shrubs,  and  bathing  in  the 
cool  waters  of  the  fountain,  completed  the  charms  of  this 
little  paradise. 

Over  the  grand  hall  which  projected  from  the  house, 
was  a  spacious  dining-room  furnished  with  slanting 
lounges,  upon  which  those  at  dinner  could  recline  at 
full  length,  leaning  their  elbows  on  a  high  cushion,  and 
supporting  the  head  on  the  hand,  according  to  the  an- 
cient custom.  Together  with  this  dining-room,  the  en- 
tire story  was  called  "  ccenaculum."  The  third  story, 
except  the  Sacrarium,  in  which  a  light  was  kept  con- 
stantly burning,  was  occupied  by  the  slaves.  It  con- 
sisted of  a  number  of  little  rooms,  the  front  windows  of 
13  K 


146      THE    COUNTRY  SEAT  AT   ELEUSIS. 

which  looked  out  upon  the  open  country,  and  the  back 
upon  the  court-yard  already  mentioned.  Those  looking 
towards  the  court-yard,  reached  the  floor  and  opened 
on  a  terrace  which  ran  the  whole  length  of  the  wing. 

Independently  of  this  court-yard,  the  edifice  boasted 
of  a  second  one,  of  the  same  size  and  somewhat  further 
back,  separated  from  the  first  by  an  intermediate  build- 
ing called  the  women's  department.  In  this  second 
court-yard  was  an  elaborately  finished  marble  bath, 
sheltered  from  the  sun  by  an  awning.  The  pavement 
round  the  bath  was  Mosaic,  and  represented  animals, 
fruit,  and  flowers.  Generally  speaking,  the  principal 
floors  of  this  Villa,  particularly  of  the  reception-rooms, 
were  of  mosaic  workmanship,  which  had  the  advantage 
of  keeping  the  apartments  cool. 

We  next  visit  the  out-offices  adjoining  the  palace. 
"What  most  attracts  our  attention  in  those,  are  the  nu- 
merous rows  of  windows.  This  portion  was  occupied 
by  Metella's  male  slaves  who  had  the  charge  of  .the 
flower-gardens,  meadows,  olive-gardens,  and  flax-fields. 
Under  this  dwelling  were  the  stables,  the  doors  of  which 
we  only  open  hastily  here  and  there.  They  were  filled 
with  an  abundance  of  horned  cattle,  horses,  and  a  sort 
of  black  swine  with  soft  shiny  skins,  such  as  can  be 
seen  at  the  present  day  lying  about  in  the  streets  of  the 
Grecian  cities.  Then  again  there  were  vaults  for  hares 
and  rabbits,  and  others  for  geese,  turkeys,  and  all  sorts 
of  poultry. 

After  this,  follows  the  "Villa  Fructuaria,"  which  ex- 
cites in  many  respects  greater  interest,  for  it  contained 
large  and  various  wine-cellars.  In  the  back  cellar  were 


THE    COUNTRY  SEAT  AT  ELEUSIS.     147 

several  goat-skins  filled  with  the  wine  so  much  valued 
by  the  Greeks,  called  Lesbos ;  these  were  sealed  with 
pitch.  Ehodian  and  Lydian,  and  also  the  beloved  Fa- 
larian,  were  not  forgotten.  Other  cellars  of  the  Fruc- 
turia  contained  stores  from  Metella's  olive-gardens, 
which  were  partly  delivered  to  the  great  merchant- 
ships,  and  partly  sold  at  the  new  Market  of  Athens. 
The  store-rooms  for  corn,  hay,  and  garden-fruits,  occu- 
pied a  large  space  in  the  Fructuaria,  and  enclosed  off 
this  part  of  the  Villa.  Lastly,  one  look  at  Metella's 
garden.  It  may  appear  strange  that,  two  hundred  years 
after  the  birth  of  Christ,  one  met  with  the  same  artistic 
ornaments  which  are  to  be  seen  in  the  nineteenth  cen- 
tury, particularly  in  France  and  Holland,  where  the 
tasteless  custom  prevails  of  cutting  one  tree  like  a  pyra- 
mid, another  like  a  lion,  and  a  third  like  a  crowing 
cock,  so  that  one  imagines  he  is  entering  a  menagerie 
rather  than  a 'pleasure-ground.  The  peacock,  the  favor- 
ite bird  of  the  ancients,  struts  about  here  in  all  his 
pomp,  and  proudly  swings  his  tail  on  high  and  spreads 
it  out  in  the  form  of  a  fan.  The  villas  of  the  rich  are  a 
clear  proof  of  the  extravagance  of  Greece,  which,  with 
sculpture  and  all  works  of  art,  gave  occupation  to  the 
greater  number  of  the  half-freemen. 

Every  flower-bed  had  its  peculiar  attendant,  a  white 
or  colored  statue.  The  flowers  change  according  to 
their  species,  and  their  quantity  and  variety  would 
have  embarrassed  a  Greek  of  ordinary  education,  to 
name  only  one  of  these  children  of  Flora,  so  foreign 
were  these  plants  to  that  country.  The  ever  blooming 


148      THE    COUNTRY   SEAT  AT   E  LEU  SIS. 

gardens  of  Egypt  provided  nearly  all  the  country  villas 
of  Greece  with  bulbs,  seeds,  and  cuttings.  Italy  also 
sent  her  charms  here;  —  a  soft  breeze  waves  its  balmy 
perfume  from  the  flower-beds  of  Sicily;  and  Metella's 
garden  offers  you  a  bouquet  of  spikenard,  Myrrh,  and 
the  lovely  Acanthus. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 
THE   POTTER    AND    HIS    CHILD. 

a  magnificently  gilt  chariot,  drawn  by 
white  horses,  Metella  drove  up  to  the  entrance 
of  her  Villa.  Could  we  then  have  seen  the 
number  of  her  attendants,  standing  on  the 
marble  steps,  and  the  majestic  form  and 
haughty  look  of  this  noble  dame,  as  she 
gracefully  ascended,  recognizing  neither  to 
the  right  nor  to  the  left  a  single  slave  amongst  those  who 
stood  in  crouching  servility,  with  arms  crossed  on  the 
breast,  to  welcome  her  arrival,  a  doubt  would  have 
passed  through  our  minds,  whether  this  proud  lady 
would  ever  tread  the  thorny  path  of  our  Faith. 

But  Divine  Providence 'has  always  means  at  hand  to 
humble,  our  pride.  As  the  autumnal  winds  strip  the 
trees  of  their  withering  foliage,  and  mingle  it  —  ay:, 
that  of  the  mighty  oak — with  that  of  the  meanest 
shrub,  and  leave  them  bare  and  desolate  till  the  coming 
Spring,  so  the  Providence  of  God  is  wont  to  blow  away, 
with  the  winds  of  affliction,  all  the  vanities  of  man,  and 
level  his  proud  heart  to  the  dust,  leaving  it  for  a  time 
empty,  desolate,  and  bereft  of  all  consolation. 

13*  (149) 


150          THE   POTTER    AND    HIS    CHILD. 

We  see  here  but  slight  grounds  for  supposing  that 
Metella  will  ever  become  a  disciple  of  Christ,  or  a  lover 
of  self-denial.  Yet  a  few  days  later  she  made  a  slight 
beginning,  by  a  sort  of  condescending  benevolence,  of 
which  we  shall  give  an  example. 

On  the  following  morning  after  her  arrival,  as  she 
was  walking  in  the  court-yard,  and,  fanned  by  her  maid 
with  an  artistically  woven  peacock's  tail,  she  saw,  at  the 
end  of  the  interior  court,  which  was  somewhat  hidden 
by  an  ornamental  shrubbery,  a  poor,  but  very  cheerful 
old  man,  sitting  near  the  kitchen-door.  His  flowing  hair 
and  peculiar  woollen  mantle  bespoke  him  to  be  a  sort  of 
artisan. 

He  is  a  potter  by  trade,  and  his  name  is  Hyllos. 
While  sitting  on  the  cool  Mosaic  pavement,  and  leaning 
against  a  pillar,  he  little  thinks  that  a  stranger  is  ob- 
serving him  closely. 

Poor  Hyllos  had  just  brought  to  the  palace  some 
kitchen- utensils  from  his  work-shop,  and  had  ardently 
hoped  that  he  would  have  received  payment  for  them  on 
delivery.  But  it  was  not  so,  and  after  his  long  walk,  he 
had  only  received  a  piece  of  dry  bread  from  one  of  the 
cooks.  A  little  annoyed,  as  he  had  not  had  anything  to 
eat  that  day,  he  seated  himself  down  close  to  the  kitchen, 
and  commenced  talkjng  to  himself.  "Well,  Hyllos!  but 
you,  are  a  poor,  pitiful  old  blockhead !  you  have  over- 
worked yourself  the  whole  week,  and  now  you  have 
nothing  more  for  your  trouble  than  a  bit  of  dry  bread. 
Oh,  hunger  bites !  but  stop !  you  growling  old  fellow ! 
don't  you  smell  an  amazingly  good  odor  from  the 
kitchen  ?  what  more  do  you  want  ?  "  and  taking  a  long 


THE   POTTER    AND    HIS    CHILD.         151 

sniff, — "oh!  tit-bits!  roasted  or  steamed! — ah!  if  you 
were  not  a  discontented  rascal,  you  would  be  satisfied 
with  your  share  of  the  feast ! "  So  saying,  he  took  his 
bread  from  his  bag,  and  with  a  long  draw,  sniffed  up 
the  good  smell,  and  then  ate  his  morsel  of  bread,  and 
after  a  pause,  as  if  to  test  the  quality  of  taste  and  smell, 
said,  "Of  course  you've  had  a  good  dinner! — You  old 
fool,  to  be  grumbling  for  nothing!  Why  the  bread 
dipped  in  the  smell  from  the  kitchen  is  quite  another 
thing.  Ah!  we  have  only  to  sop  it  in  the  delicious 
broth  of  a  healthy  imagination,  to  enjoy  it  with  an  un- 
derstanding." He  repeated  the  bite  and  sniff  several 
times,  and  by  the  help  of  his  imagination,  began  to  feel 
himself  not  only  satisfied,  but  satiated, — so  much  so, 
that  he  seemed  to  fear  it  was  amounting  to  gluttony, 
and  rising  from  the  ground  began  to  admonish  himself. 
—  "Come,  Hyllos,  don't  gormandize,  you  have  had  more 
than  enough  for  this  day ; "  and  throwing  his  bag  over 
his  shoulder,  commenced  his  journey  home  with  a  cheer- 
ful countenance. 

Metella  was  forcibly  struck  with  the  piteous  scene  she 
had  just  witnessed.  This  poor  man,  thought  she,  is 
contented  with  the  odor  that  proceeds  from  the  food 
preparing  for  my  table.  What  wealth  lies  in  content- 
ment! and  yet  what  wealth  can  purchase  it? — She 
firmly  resolved  to  visit  the  poor  man  without  delay,  in 
his  own  humble  dwelling. 

It  was  on  one  of  those  hot,  dry  harvest-days,  such  as  are 
often  experienced  in  Greece,  when  the  heat  of  the  sun, 
the  wind,  and  the  sandy  dust,  vie  with  each  other  which 
shall  conquer,  when  Metella  gave  orders  for  her  favorite 


152  THE   POTTER    AND    HIS    CHILD. 

slave  to  hold  herself  in  readiness  for  an  evening  walk. 
Ophne  brings  with  her  a  long-handled  sun-shade,  which 
with  the  ancients  played  so  important  a  part,  and  which 
has  been  handed  down  to  the  Greeks  of  the  present  day 
in  a  smaller  form.  She  cannot  help  feeling  anxious 
whether  she  will  be  able  to  move  it  about  with  the 
necessary  agility,  in  order  to  protect  her  mistress  as  well 
from  the  rays  of  the  sun  as  from  the  thick  clouds  of 
harvest  dust.  She  consoled  herself  with  the  reflection, 
that  latterly  her  mistress  had  become  far  less  sensitive, 
and  that  very  day,  during  the  entire  walk,  she  did  not 
hear  from  her  a  single  complaint. 

"Ophne,"  said  Metella,  as  they  had  been  walking 
for  some  time  in  the  hot  valley,  "do  you  know  the 
house  of  poor  Hyllos,  the  potter  of  Corinth,  to  whom  I 
sent  Lydia  not  long  since  ?  He  has  a  little  sick  boy, 
and,  if  I  do  not  err,  yonder  is  his  poor,  clay -built  dwell- 
ing. I  should  like  to  visit  the  old  man  and  give  him  a 
little  present." 

Ophne  was  not  a  little  astonished  to  hear  from  her 
gracious  Domina,  that  she  was  going  to  the  house  of  a 
poor  potter,  and  to  bestow  a  charity  with  her  own  hands. 

"Undoubtedly,"  said  Ophne,  "Hyllos  dwells  there  on 
the  other  side  of  the  moor.  He  was  once  well  off,  and 
used  to  provide  the  potter  market  at  Athens  with  his 
goods.  But  since  he  has  become  old,  his  strength  and 
activity  fail  him,  and  he  finds  great  difficulty  in  support- 
ing himself.  In  addition  to  his  poverty,  he  has  a  child 
to  provide  for,  whom  he  also  instructs  in  his  trade,  and 
in  the  rudiments  of  reading  and  writing." 

Hyllos,  who  was  just  then  in  his  work  shop  finishing 


THE   POTTER    AND    HIS    CHILD.  153 

flower-pots,  saw  the  gracious  lady  with  her  slave,  while 
they  were  still  at  a  good  distance,  and  hastened  to  thank 
her,  as  she  was  passing  by,  for  the  many  blessings  she 
had  sent  him  lately.  But  how  great  was  his  surprise 
on  seeing  her  approach  his  humble  dwelling.  She 
entered  smilingly,  and  inquired  after  himself  and 'his 
son.  The  little  Askanus,  who  was  scarcely  six  years 
old,  sat  in  a  corner  on  a  broken  flower-pot,  and  held  in 
his  arms  a  young  rabbit,  which  he  was  sleeking  down 
with  his  hand. 

"  Are  you  contented,  Hyllos  ?  "  asked  Metella ;  and 
before  the  potter  could  give  an  answer,  Askanus  fright- 
ened his  little  rabbit  away  by  whispering  in  his  ear, 
"Are  you  contented,  she  asks."  Then  the  child  ran 
behind  the  wooden  pillar  or  support  of  the  house,  and 
every,  now  and  then  stole  a  glance  at  the  lady,  when  he 
thought  he  was  unobserved. 

"What  have  you  had  for  dinner  to-day,  Hyllos?" 
asked  Metella. 

"  A  cake  of  bread,  madam,  onions  and  watercresses,  a 
little  salt,  and  a  drink  from  the  wine-pipe  fountain  in 
the  pine  forest." 

"  You  have  a  sick  boy,  I  heard  lately ;  how  is  he  ?  " 

While  the  potter  commenced  to  relate  all  the  particu- 
lars of  his  child's  illness,  the  little  fellow  sought  to  con- 
ceal his  face  behind  his  bound-up  arm.  Metella  then 
called  the  little  boy  from  his  hiding-place.  He  ap- 
proached the  strange  lady  bashfully,  and  endeavored  by 
retreating  slowly  to  hide  himself  behind  his  father. 

Metella  drew  from  her  girdle-pocket  a  piece  of  gold, 
and  held  it  up  before  the  boy.  At  the  sight  of  the  gold, 


154  THE   POTTER   AND    HIS    CHILD. 

all  embarrassment  vanished,  and  calling  his  healthy- 
arm  into  action,  he  eagerly  seized  the  offered  gift.  The 
tears  of  the  potter  showed  Metella  the  joy  she  had 
afforded  a  poor  old  man.  He  continued  to  relate  how 
his  little  son's  malady  had  fallen  into  his  hand  and  arm, 
and  'that  the  doctor  declared  amputation  was  indis- 
pensable. 

At  these  words,  Metella  showed  a  decided  repugnance 
to  the  operation.  "Yes,  yes,"  said  little  Askanus,  "the 
horrid  man  said  that,  and  went  away,  but  shortly  after 
the  good  Lydia  came  and  brought  me  a  large  sweet 
almond-cake."  Metella  laughed  at  the  childish  prattle, 
which  brought  to  her  mind  that  of  her  darling  Lucius 
at  the  same  age. 

"And  then,"  continued  Askanus,  "the  good  Lydia 
said  to  me  that  cutting  off  my  hand  would  not  be  so 
dreadful,  and  that  she  would  come  herself  to  me,  that  it 
might  not  pain  me  so  much." 

"  And  then,  did  the  good  Lydia  really  come  to  help 
you  ?  "  asked  Metella.  The  boy  nodded  silently  and  be- 
gan to  cry. 

The  old  father  answered  for  him,  dried  his  tears  and 
said,  "  Oh,  of  course,  gracious  lady,  or  we  could  not  have 
gone  on  with  the  operation,  if  your  servant  had  not 
helped  us.  To  us  poor  people,  such  a  help  comes  sel- 
dom. I  am  a  poor,  ailing  old  man,  and  I  could  not  pos- 
sibly have  held  the  boy  when  he  put  his  hands  implor- 
ingly together,  begging  that  we  would  not  hurt  him. 
How  also  could  a  father  look  on  at  a  sharp  knife  passing 
through  the  arm  of  his  dear  child  ?  I  still  tremble  at 
the  remembrance  of  it.  Oh,  no !  your  Lydia  kept  her 


THE    POTTER    AND    HIS    CHILD.        155 

word,  and  came  at  the  stated  time,  and  was  here  before 
the  doctor  arrived." 

"  Yes, "  added  Askanus,  "  and  brought  father  a 
couple  of  red  herrings,  and  some  grapes  and  sweet  seed- 
cake." 

"But  still  sweeter  were  the  words  of  comfort,"  con- 
tinued the  old  man,  "that  she  brought  to  the  sorrow- 
ful father  and  his  child.  Ah!  poverty  seldom  finds 
a  friend  I  but  the  few  friends  it  does  find  are  as 
true  as  gold,  for  they  do  not  love  us  for  the  sake  of  gold 
or  honor,  but  for  one's  own  sake.  Such  a  friend  your 
servant  has  been  to  us.  When  the  doctor  began  his 
work,  she  told  the  boy  to  be  firm,  and  held  him  during 
the  entire  operation  with  a  heroic  courage.  How  affec- 
tionately she  wiped  the  perspiration  from  his  brow,  and 
how  piously  she  prayed  to  the  highest  God !  For  she 
had  other  gods  as  well  as  we,  and  called  the  highest 
God, — not  Father  Jupiter,  but  God  the  Father,  and  his 
attendant  gods,  —  not  gods,  but  angels.  Then  she  re- 
peated so  often  to  the  little  fellow,  'Patience,  only  an- 
other moment's  patience,  —  we  have  just  finished ! ' " 

Metella  felt  herself  touched  by  this  description,  and  a 
sensation  passed  over  her  cheeks  like  a  cool  breeze ;  but 
as  old  Hyllos  was  about  to  show  her  the  arm,  that  she 
might  see  how  nicely  it  was  healing,  she  quickly  gave 
him  a  sign  not  to  remove  the  bandage.  "  No,  no,  Hyllos, 
let  it  be,  we  must  go  now." 

Askanus  stood  quite  close  to  the  strange  lady,  his  little 
rabbit  jumping  about  at  his  feet.  The  boy  looked  em- 
barrassed, first  at  his  little  pet,  and  then  at  Metella,  and 
on  his  blushing  cheeks  could  be  read  that  he  had  some- 


156          THE    POTTER    AND    HIS    CHILD. 

thing  else  to  say.     He  cast  an  inquiring  glance  at  his 
father,  and  twisted  his  fingers  in  his  nut-brown  locks. 

"  Well,  little  one.  what  is  the  matter  now  ?  "  inquired 
Metella,  in  a  most  amiable  tone.  "With  increasing  con- 
fusion, the  boy  stooped  down,  took  his  dear  little  rabbit 
on  his  arm,  and  thinking  the  lady  would  be  pleased  with 
a  present  of  his  favorite,  offered  it  to  her.  She  accepted 
the  little  animal,  gave  it  to  Ophne  to  carry,  patted  the 
boy  on  the  head,  and  hoped  that  Heaven  would  always 
preserve  to  him  his  good  heart. 

Had  Ophne  been  told  that  Thrax  had  become  a  giant, 
she  would  have  believed  it  sooner  than  that  Metella  had 
become  condescending;  but  seeing  was  believing,  and 
her  own  eyes  were  witness  to  the  fact.  At  the  com- 
mencement of  the  scene,  she  was  seized  with  convulsions 
of  laughter,  which  she  concealed  with  difficulty  from  her 
haughty  mistress.  This  was  soon  changed  into  silent 
admiration,  and  ended  with  veneration  and  love. 

Metella,  on  her  way  home,  was  lost  in  thought,  which 
allowed  her  lively  little  slave  to  indulge  in  her  own  re- 
flections also.  The  tongue  not  being  called  into  action, 
left  the  thoughts  a  double  duty.  The  interview  she  had 
just  witnessed  filled  her  with  admiration  and  astonish- 
ment. The  self  that  twines  round  our  best  thoughts  and 
actions  intruded  here.  "Dear  Lydia  is  so  perfect," 
thought  she  to  herself,  "  that  everything  I  did  contrary 
to  her  notions  of  right  and  wrong,  I  was  snubbed  for, 
often  enough  in  the  day ;  but  mercy  on  me,  what  is  to 
become  of  me  now,  when  my  Domina  begins  the  same 
sort  of  life !  It  will  be,  —  Ophne  don't  be  too  curious, 
—  Ophne,  keep  your  temper,  —  Ophne,  a  silent  tongue 


THE    POTTER    AND    HIS     CHILD.        157 

is  an  ornament  in  a  woman,  —  till,  at  last,  poor  Ophne 
might  as  well  be  one  of  the  statues  in  the  pleasure- 
ground,  looking  at  everything  and  saying  nothing.  "Well, 
I  think  one  Mentor  is  enough  for  any  poor  slave,  and  I 
am  quite  satisfied  with  Lydia.  Plowever,  too  much 
thought  injures  the  health,  and  I  shall  have  plenty  of 
time  to  think  of  the  troubles  when  they  come ;"  so,  cast- 
ing off  care,  she  began  to  fan  her  mistress  with  redoubled 
zeal. 

But  to  return  to  Metella.  This  evening  her  respect 
for  Lydia,  whom  she  usually  called  the  bee  of  Hymett, 
on  account  of  her  many  acts  of  virtue,  rose  higher  and 
higher.  She  felt  an  ardent  desire,  not  only  to  be  esteemed 
by  such  a  soul,  but  to  be  ardently  and  sincerely  loved. 
Though  she  believed  her  slave  was  attached  to  her,  still 
she  thought  that  she  was  not  tenderly  beloved  by  her. 
In  any  case,  the  love  that  she  received  from  her  was  not 
of  that  enthusiastic  expression  which  she  looked  upon 
as  true  friendship.  She  then  reflected  on  the  two  sorts 
of  benevolence  which  the  poor  potter  had  received 
through  her  and  her  servant.  "  I  gave  him  gold,"  said 
she  to  herself, — "a  small  gift,  which  has  made  me 
nothing  poorer.  Lydia,  on  the  contrary,  had  no  gold  to 
offer,  but  she  gave  what  was  more  valuable,  her  personal 
services.  I  would  rather  have  given  the  unhappy  father 
ten  pieces  of  gold  than  do  for  him  what  she  did,  and 
therefore  her  acts  of  benevolence  are  far  greater  than 
mine,  and  certainly  before  God  her  work  has  by  far  a 
greater  merit.  Oh,  if  I  were  so  ardently  and  sincerely 
beloved  by  her  as  that  child  of  Hyllos  1  The  old  man 
was  right :  friendship  to  the  poor  is  without  self-seeking; 
14 


158          THE    POTTER    AND    HIS     CHILD. 

but  the  more  riches  and  earthly  greatness  raise  Us,  the 
more  reason  we  have  to  mistrust  the  love  of  man.  The 
higher  those  lofty  mountains  raise  their  heads,  the  more 
densely  are  they  enveloped  in  fog  and  vapor,  while  the 
darting  rays  of  the  genial  sun  pass  them  by  unheeded, 
to  reflect  themselves  in  the  modest  valley.  What  signi- 
fies this  bowing  and  cringing  servility  bestowed  on  us 
by  mortals  like  ourselves,  when  we  don't  possess  either 
a  true  friend  or  a  single  heart  to  love  us  ?  "  Such  reflec- 
tions rendered  her  melancholy  and  dejected,  for  when 
she  looked  back  on  her  past  life,  she  found  that  all  her 
good  works  grew  on  no  other  soil  than  that  of  her 
wealth ;  and  because  those  riches  were  not  her  own 
merits,  but,  at  the  most,  the  mere  possessions  of  her  an- 
cestors, it  appeared  to  her  as  though  she  had  passed  a 
useless  life.  She  therefore  saw  herself  in  effect  poor  in 
good  deeds,  and  a  feeling  of  shame  and  sadness  took 
possession  of  her.  It  appeared  to  her,  that  great  souls 
must  think  little  of  her,  as  she  had  nothing  else  to  offer 
for  another  life  but  fleeting  treasures.  Then  she  under- 
stood, for  the  first  time,  that  there  could  be  that  man 
who  would  look  upon  riches  as  an  imperfection,  and  that 
the  gospel  was  right  in  connecting  perfection  with  a  re- 
nunciation of  temporal  goods.  Even  a  Roman  noble, 
Minutius  Felix,  expressed  the  same  sentiments.  Whence 
all  at  once  would  such  an  honor  come  to  the  poor,  that 
the  greatest  among  the  inhabitants  would  visit  them, 
and  try  to  comfort  them  ? 

The  rich  matron  does  this  merely  because  she  begins 
to  experience  a  pleasure  in  a  doctrine  that  commands 
us  without  distinction  to  love  every  one  as  we  love 


THE    POTTER    AND    HIS    CHILD.        159 

ourselves ;  still  more  willingly  would  she  hasten  to  the 
poor,  if  she  knew  who  He  is  that  says,  "  What  you  do 
to  the  least  of  these  my  brethren,  you  have  done  to  me." 
So  poverty  in  the  Christian  world  has  quite  another 
position  than  that  which  it  had  in  the  Pagan.  Poverty 
gives  virtue  a  patent  for  nobility,  love,  vassals,  and  in 
the  naked  God-man  on  the  cross  she  beholds  her  oldest 
and  most  renowned  Ancestor.  The  poor  themselves 
have  at  all  times  acknowledged  this  privilege  through 
the  Redeemer,  and  have  therefore  been  from  one  cen- 
tury to  another  the  most  affectionate  and  faithful  chil- 
dren of  Christ  and  his  holy  Church. 


CHAPTER    XIV. 


SAD    INTELLIGENCE. 

a  shady  part  of  the  extensive  garden 
is  a  bower  formed  of  majestic  palm-trees,  and 
their  projecting  branches  fall  in  graceful  pro- 
fusion over  the  arched  roof,  and  mingle  in 
pleasing  contrast  with  the  lighter  green  of 
the  Acacia,  and  the  blooming  roses  of  Pes- 
tum.  which  with  their  full  buds  insinuate 
themselves  through  the  dark  foliage  of  the  interior. 

In  this  lovely  spot,  surrounded  by  a  wilderness  of 
beauties,  was  Metella,  reclining  on  a  soft  couch,  and 
taking  her  morning  repast.  Close  to  the  sofa  sat  Lydia, 
reading  to  her  mistress.  She  held  a  portion  of  the  Gos- 
pel of  St.  John  in  her  hand.  Although  the  early  Chris- 
tians carefully  preserved  the  Gospels  from  the  heathens, 
still  Bishop  Quadratus  allowed  Metella  to  read  all  their 
religious  writings.  At  her  feet,  on  the  skirt  of  her  robe, 
lay  her  little  Maltese  dog.  It  had  its  little  brown  paws 
stretched  out  at  full  length,  on  which  it  rested  its  tiny 
black  nose,  and  settled  itself  snugly  to  sleep.  Selina  is 
seen  approaching  up  the  shady  walk,  accompanied  by  a 
sweet-looking  boy.  She  carries  in  her  hand  a  perforated, 

(160) 


SAD    INTELLIGENCE.  101 

silver  fruit-basket,  in  which  are  beautiful  peaches  ar- 
ranged on  fresh  vine-leaves,  and  surrounded  with  blue 
and  yellow  figs  and  Arabian  dates.  The  boy  carried  a 
fine  towel  of  Pelusiam  linen  on  his  arm ;  he  held  in  his 
right  hand  a  tankard,  and  in  the  left  a  massive  golden 
cup.  Behind  Duranus  stood  little  Thrax,  bearing  a 
muscle-shaped  dish  of  rose-colored  Sardonyx,  filled 
with  clear  ice.  All  were  laid  on  the  black  marble 
table ;  the  slaves  bowed  themselves  backward  with 
arms  crossed  on  the  breast,  and  retired. 

"  My  Lucius  is  a  good  son,"  said  Metella,  taking  the 
golden  cup  in  her  hand.  "He  sent  me  this  cup  lately — 
the  present  of  the  Emperor  Yerus,  and  he  begged  me  to 
use  it  daily  until  his  return.  Also  Pompeianus,  whom 
I  knew  in  Borne,  and  who  now  fights  on  the  Danube 
with  Lucius,  guessed  what  would  please  me.  He  has 
had  some  words  of  comfort,  touching  the  death  of  my 
beloved  husband,  engraved  on  it.  Before  you  pour  in 
the  beverage,  you  may  recall  the  verses  to  my  mind." 

"Amidst  the  busy  hours  of  life's  routine, 
Oft  hast  thou  joyful  raised  the  veil,  and  seen 
Laborious  Tyke,  grand  in  her  gilded  plough, 
With  toilsome  pain,  thine  acres  furrow  through. 
Thus  suff'rings  mix  with  state,  and  through  the  mind 
Wail  in  sad  accents,  like  the  moaning  wind. 
Death  forced  thy  noble  spouse  from  thee  to  part, 
And  in  the  dark  tomb  sleeps  his  faithful  heart. 
Metella,  still  thou'st  joy  amidst  thy  grief, 
Bloom  to  thy  cheek,  and  to  thy  heart  relief: 
Ah  !  may  not  that  joy  thou  'st  gained  be  brief. 
May  Lucius'  face  thine  eyes  delight,  for  there 
Strength,  courage,  virtue,  in  bright  traits  appear, 
Proud  ornaments  of  that  afflicting  Bier." 
14*  L 


162  SAD    INTELLIGENCE. 

After  Lydia  had  repeated  them,  she  poured  the  red 
wine  into  the  cup,  and  dropped  in  a  few  crumbs  of  ice 
to  give  it  an  agreeable  coolness. 

Lydia  related,  as  an  introduction  to  the  paragraph, 
that  she  was  to  read  that  morning,  that  Jesus  returned 
willingly  to  his  friend  Lazarus,  who  lived  at  a  short 
distance  from  Jerusalem.  Lazarus  was  at  one  time 
dangerously  ill,  and  his  afflicted  sisters  Martha  and 
Mar)  sent  a  special  message  to  Jesus,  to  obtain  His 
Divine  assistance  for  their  sick  brother.  After  this 
introduction,  she  began  to  read  the  touching  account  of 
the  raising  of  Lazarus,  and  added  that  this  resuscitation 
stood  in  close  connection  with  the  imprisonment  of  our 
Lord. 

This  wonder,  and  the  solemn  reception  of  Jesus  into 
Jerusalem,  roused 'the  envy  of  the  High-Priest,  and  the 
death  of  our  Kedeemer  was  the  result.  But  just  as 
Lazarus  was  only  a  few  days  in  the  grave,  so  our  Lord 
was  but  part  of  three  days  in  the  tomb,  when  by  His 
own  power  He  rose  from  the  dead.  So  will  our  souls 
be  united  to  our  bodies,  never  to  be  separated.  The  hope 
of  meeting  again  is  a  consolation  to  us,  when  standing 
by  the  side  of  those  graves  that  contain  all  we  loved  on 
earth. 

While  Metella  interrupted  her  frequently  with  ques- 
tions, she  perceived  that  in  front  of  the  garden,  coming 
towards  her  with  hasty  steps,  was  a  man  of  rank.  As 
he  approached,  she  recognized  him  as  her  old  domestic 
friend  Pausanias,  and  her  father's  most  grateful  disciple. 
He  commenced,  with  an  agitated  voice,  to  say,  that  the 
Proconsul  in  Athens  had  just  received  news  from  the 


SAD   INTELLIGENCE.  163 

seat  of  war,  and  that  the  conquest  of  the  barbarians  was 
at  last  completed,  which  conquest  was  particularly  at- 
tributed to  the  bravery  of  the  "Legio  Fulminatrix," 
which  many  Greeks  had  joined.  The  wonderful  assist- 
ance of  the  Divinity  was  everywhere  spoken  of,  without 
which  the  whole  army  must  have  succumbed  to  the 
savage  force  of  the  barbarians.  Also  news  of  Lucius, 
who  fought  bravely,  was  contained  in  the  accounts  to 
the  Proconsul.  He  had  scarcely  said  these  words,  when, 
with  extraordinary  haste,  he  drew  forth  a  note,  and 
laying  it  on  the  little  table,  took  his  immediate  de- 
parture. 

"News  of  my  son?"  asked  Metella,  and  cast  an 
anxious  look  upon  Lydia. 

"  Probably  joyful  news,"  replied  she,  "  for  he  fought 
bravely." 

"I  scarcely  dare  break  open  the  note, — Pausanias  de- 
parted so  quickly,  what  can  it  signify?  I  tremble!  Oh, 
withdraw  to  the  shady  walk  and  pray  to  your  God  for 
me.  In  the  meantime,  I  will  occupy  myself  a  few  min- 
utes with  my  darling  Lucius."  Lydia  obeyed.  "The 
opening  of  that  little  missive  can  give  me  unbounded 
joy,  or  plunge  me  into  the  deepest  grief! — There  it  lies 
in  prophetic  silence,  bearing  in  its  simple  folds  a  secret 
to  me,  yet  the  knowledge  of  which  may  for  ever  dash 
from  my  lips  the  cup  of  joy.  It  still  says  nothing,  and 
yet  contains  what? — perhaps  more  than  I  shall  live  to 
bear." 

The  longer  she  delayed  opening  the  missive,  the 
greater  became  her  anxiety.  Pausanias  stood  ever  be- 
fore her ; — his  mien,  his  confused  look,  his  hasty  depar- 


164  SAD    INTELLIGENCE. 

ture,  were  all  doubtful  omens.  She  seemed  incapable 
of  thought,  not  even  one  to  Him  on  high,  to  grant  a 
gracious  termination  to  her  melancholy  fears.  "My 
darling  son,  what  shall  I  know  of  thee  now  ?  "  and  with 
one  desperate  struggle  she  broke  the  seal. 

A  considerable  time  had  passed,  and  Lydia  heard  no 
sound;  she  began  to  look  impatiently  towards  the  arbor. 
She  heard  the  little  dog  barking  piteously  as  if  he  had 
been  hurt.  Whining,  and  with  sunken  head  and  soft 
steps,  the  little  animal  ran  along  the  walk,  and  scarcely 
had  he  joined  Lydia,  when  he  began  to  retrace  his  steps, 
drag  his  tail  along  the  ground,  and  now  and  then  looked 
back  to  see  if  Lydia  were  following.  Lydia  concluded 
that  the  dog's  howling  signified  something,  and  she 
resolved  to  return,  though  uncalled,  and  drawing  aside 
the  branches,  looked  into  the  arbor,  and  uttering  a  cry 
of  horror,  exclaimed,  —  "My  dear,  dear  mistress!"  She 
entered,  and  called  her  again  and  again  by  name,  but 
received  no  answer.  She  then  raised  her  head  gently, 
but  her  eyes  were  still  closed,  and  she  held  in  her  half- 
opened  hand  the  little  missive.  Lydia  now  guessed  all. 
The  deadly  paleness  of  Metella's  countenance  told  her 
the  contents  of  the  letter.  Lucius  was  slain !  At  this 
moment  a  feeling  pervaded  her  entire  frame,  to  which 
she  had  hitherto  been  a  stranger,  since  her  painful 
separation  from  her  dear  mother. 

Placing  Metella's  head  upon  her  arm,  she  took  the 
napkin  from  the  table,  poured  on  it  a  little  wine,  and 
with  it  chafed  her  lady's  temples.  The  little  dog  sprang 
anxiously  upon  his  mistress,  and  dragging  with  his 
paws,  endeavored  to  arouse  her.  Lydia  knew  that  a 


SAD    INTELLIGENCE.  165 

cry  for  help  would  be  useless  at  this  moment,  she  there- 
fore remained  supporting  the  head  of  the  afflicted 
mother,  awaiting  the  return  of  her  senses. 

The  good  slave  continued  long  in  this  position, 
anxiously  looking  for  a  change.  She  pressed  Metella's 
head  to  her  heart  with  tender  affection,  that  she  might 
once  in  her  life  have  the  happiness  of  being  near  her. 
At  last  she  observed  her  breathing  softly,  and  her  eyes 
gradually  opened. 

Metella  cast  a  vacant  look  around,  and  knew  nothing 
of  the  past,  but  inquired  if  she  had  been  dreaming. 
Lydia  answered,  "No,  dear  mistress, — it  is  only  a  little 
weakness  that  will  quickly  vanish."  She  then  offered 
her  the  golden  cup,  and  begged  of  her  to  drink.  The 
lady  sipped  a  little,  and  looked  inquiringly  into  Lydia's 
eyes. 

"  My  child,  I  believe  you  are  crying  ?  Say,  has  any- 
thing happened  to  you  ?  Ah  !  I  feel  as  if  I  should  cry 
with  thee !  Oh,  let  me  rest  a  little  on  thy  arm  !  —  Has 
not  some  one  been  here  with  us  ? "  she  asked,  after  a 
long  pause;  —  "was  there  not  a  stranger  here,  and  I 
imagine  he  said  something  about  Lucius?  Oh,  yes — I 
remember  now  —  he  said  that  all  was  well  with  him."  — 
Lydia  turned  aside  to  conceal  the  bitter  tears  that  flowed 
without  ceasing. 

"  Child,"  said  Metella,  "  why  are  you  silent  ?  Why 
do  you  not  help  me  to  remember  what  is  passing  ? 

"  Lucius  fought  bravely — of  course  he  fought  bravely, 
or  he  would  have  been  an  unworthy  scion  of  a  noble 
stem!  But — there  is  something  more.  Some  one  spoke 
of  defeat.  Lydia,  why  are  you  silent? — again  this 


166  SAD    INTELLIGENCE. 

letter !     Lydia,  am  I  in  my  senses,  or  does  this  letter 
speak  of  my  son  ?  " 

Lydia'  dares  not  trust  herself  with  one  look,  but  sup- 
porting her  dear  mistress  still  on  her  arm,  remains  mo- 
tionless. 

Metella  again  seized  the  note,  and  with  a  fixed  gaze 
reads  on.  —  "My  child  fallen?  Lucius  slain?  The 
desolate  widow  without  a  son !  The  hope,  the  joy  of 
her  widowed  life,  to  come  no  more !  Is  she  then  never 
more  to  hear  that  voice  again  ? — that  buoyant  step,  that 
spoke  the  gladness  of  the  heart, — that  honest  tongue, 
its  truth  speaking  from  his  flashing  eye! — that  docile 
will,  bending  always  in  obedience! — and  does  that  lov- 
ing filial  heart  beat  now  no  more  ?  Alas,  poor  mother, 
thy  only  hope  is  slain!  Thou  hast  nothing  more  to 
love !  All,  all  is  desolation  here,"  placing  her  hand 
convulsively  on  her  beating  heart.  "  The  link  that 
bound  me  to  this  fleeting  world  is  broken !  I  have 
nothing  now  to  care  for!"  Metella  was  roused  from 
her  anguish  by  a  voice  outside  the  arbor  weeping  like  a 
child.  A  little  form  sought  to  get  a  glimpse  between 
the  foliage :  it  was  the  Thracian  dwarf,  the  most  faithful 
follower  of  the  fallen  Lucius — little  Thrax.  Then 
came  Ophne,  and  cast  herself  at  the  feet  of  her  afflicted 
mistress,  pressed  her  robe  to  her  face,  and  sobbed  aloud. 
Thrax  hid  himself  behind  her,  and  took  the  letter  from 
the  table.  He  appeared  by  his  imploring  countenance 
to  ask  if  he  might  read  it.  Metella  by  a  slight  inclina- 
tion of  the  head  gave  assent,  and  he  and  Ophne  were 
motioned  to  leave  the  arbor.  In  a  few  moments  loud 
lamentations  were  heard  through  the  villa,  for  Pausanias 


SAD    INTELLIGENCE.  167 

had  informed  the  gate-keeper  of  the  news  he  had  brought. 
The  letter  that  the  dwarf  took  from  the  arbor  passod 
from  hand  to  hand,  but  no  one  ventured  to  approach 
Metella,  who  had  just  been  carried  to  her  apartment  by 
her  sympathizing  slaves. 

After  the  violent  grief  had  a  little  subsided,  Lydia 
sought  to  stammer  out  a  word  of  consolation,  but  as 
often  as  she  tried  to  speak,  her  voice  failed  her.  Me- 
tella saw  that  her  affectionate  servant  wished  to  console 
her,  and  she  discovered,  in  the  midst  of  her  sorrow,  that 
her  wish  to  be  loved  by  Lydia  as  a  dear  friend  was  more 
than  fulfilled.  It  was  difficult  for  Lydia  to  utter  a  word. 
"  Dearest  lady,"  said  she,  "  your  suffering  is  great,  but 
you  do  not  bear  it  alone, — those  who  know  the  secrets 
of  thy  noble  soul  suffer  with  thee,  and  share  this  pain 
with  an  intensity  that  you  would  scarcely  credit."  By 
her  affectionate  attention  she  changed  her  mistress'  pain 
into  sorrow,  and  the  tears  began  to  flow. 

"  My  eyes,"  said  she,  "  will  become  a  dried-up  spring." 

"Till  the  God  of  comfort,"  added  the  Christian  slave, 
"  makes  the  eye  clear  again  to  see  the  dear  departed  one. 
Between  the  present  and  that  moment,  there  is  only  a 
little  space,  then  the  mother  will  be  united  to  her  child : 
what  a  treasure  of  comfort,  my  dear  mistress,  lies  in  this 
truth!" 

"Did  I  not  believe  this,"  replied  she,  "my  grief  would 
annihilate  me,  —  I  am  fully  convinced  of  the  immor- 
tality of  the  soul.  Oh,  it  is  a  melancholy  Religion  that 
places  in  the  hand  of  a  sorrowing  mother  the  shroud  of 
her  son,  and  in  it  buries  her  last  consolation.  The  be- 
lief of  again  seeing  the  lost  one," —  and  suddenly  start- 


168  SAD    INTELLIGENCE. 

ing  up,  she  continued,  "Lydia,  Lydia,  my  dream !  per- 
haps Lucius  was  then  dead." 

"And  at  that  time  already  happy,"  replied  Lydia,  "for 
he  was  reclining  near  Christ  the  Son  of  God ;  and  that 
same  Christ  that  gave  back  to  Martha  her  brother,  who 
had  been  four  days  dead,  can  also  heal  thy  wounds  and 
give  thee  back  thy  son." 

"  I  wished  to  go  to  Christ  when  I  saw  Him,  but  I  was 
not  able ;  you  sought  to  help  me  —  you  were  also  too 
weak.  Who  will  lead  me  ? 

"Oh,  if  I  never  coulcl  approach  my  son,  how  hard  — 
how  dreadful  would  it  be !  I  should  be  the  most  miser- 
able of  mortals  I  I  should  wander  about  lamenting 
through  all  parts  of  the  heavens  and  the  lower  world. 
I  should  sob  and  call  for  the  child  of  my  heart  —  never 
tire  calling  for  him,  if  even  for  an  eternity.  Oh,  dear 
child,  do  you  lead  me  to  my  son !  " 

'My  arm,"  replied  Lydia,  "is  too  weak;  but  grace, 
when  it  enlightens  you,  can  send  you  a  strong  angel  from 
Heaven,  who  will  drive  away  all  hinderance,  and  lead 
you  to  the  happiness  of  your  son." 

Up  to  this  time,  the  Christian  slave  shared  the  suffer- 
ings of  her  mistress,  not  like  a  servant,  but  like  a  faith- 
ful friend ;  for  without  knowing  it,  she  was  no  longer 
the  servant,  but  the  comforter  of  Metella. 


CHAPTER    XV. 

DIONYSIUS    OF    CORINTH. 

f 

ETELLA  was  too  well  known  in  Ath- 
ens, not  to  excite  the  deepest  sympathy 
amongst  her  friends,  at  the  melancholy 
tidings  from  the  seat  of  war.  Some  of 
them  started  for  the  Villa,  to  express  in 
person  the  share  they  took  in  her  afflictions. 
Amongst  these  was  the  venerable  philoso- 
pher Athenagoras,  whose  condolence  fell  on  the  withered 
heart  of  the  noble  sufferer  like  a  mild  sunbeam.  Although 
Athens,  where  she  had  her  numerous  friends,  was  not 
far  distant,  still  she  did  not  carry  her  sorrows  there ;  for 
in  misfortune,  the  heart  of  man  prefers  solitude,  and 
finds  but  few  friends  to  keep  it  company.  Athens  was 
the  last  place  she  would  wish  to  visit,  as  there  were  pre- 
parations making  there  to  celebrate  the  conquest  over 
the  barbarians,  and  these  would  have  opened  her  wounds 
anew. 

Athenagoras  promised  to  introduce  her  to  a  man  who 
was  honored  by  the  faithful  of  Greece  as  a  worker  of 

15  (169) 


170  DIONYS1US    OF    CORINTH. 

« 
miracles.     He  lived  in  Corinth,  and  therefore  was  not 

very  far  from  the  Villa. 

Metella  accepted  this  attention  with  gratitude. 

The  Legends  introduce  to  us  two  Bishops  of  Greece, 
who  bore  the  name  of  Dionysius.  The  oldest  is  the  well- 
known  Dionysius,  the  Areopagite,  who,  through  the 
address  that  St.  Paul  made  A.D.  51,  before  the  Areopa- 
gites,  was  converted  to  the  Faith,  and  became  his  disci- 
ple. He  was  the  first  Bishop  of  Athens,  and  died  A.  D. 
117.  Centuries  later,  a  church  was  built  to  his  memory 
on  the  Areopagus,  but  it  is  now  in  ruins. 

The  Dionysius  of  whom  Athenagoras  spoke,  flourished 
in  the  reign  of  Marcus  Aurelius  at  Corinth,  and  distin- 
guished himself  by  his  great  zeal  and  brilliant  oratory. 
He  was  not  contented  to  live  solely  for  his  church,  but 
wrote  several  epistles  to  distant  congregations,  the  most 
renowned  of  which  were  those  to  the  Lacedemonians 
and  the  Athenians.  Those  to  the  churches  of  Nicomedia, 
Gortyna,  Amastris,  Gnossus,  and  Eome,  —  letters  full  of 
Apostolic  zeal,  wherein  were  frequently  exposed  the 
errors  and  heresies  of  that  century,  —  are  for  the  greater 
part  no  longer  extant.  Eusebius  has  only  saved  some 
remnants  of  them  in  his  Church  History.  Dionysius 
encouraged  the  Athenians,  in  his  epistles,  to  a  firmer 
faith  and  to  an  evangelical  life;  he  mentions  their  former 
Bishop  Publius,  who  was  martyred,  and  his  successor 
Quadratus ;  and  of  the  latter  he  gave  testimony,  that  he 
had  again  lighted  up  the  sinking  faith  of  the  Athenians. 
This  holy  Bishop  opposed  those  heresies  which  arose  in 
the  first  and  second  centuries,  and  was  renowned  for  in- 
quiring into  every  particular  of  each  sect  that  started 


DIONYSIUS    OF    CORINTH.  171 

up,  from  what  writings  their  founders  drew  them,  and  in 
what  they  consisted. 

Some  of  his  writings  were  wilfully  misrepresented  by 
his  opponents,  of  which  he  complained.  "I  wrote  some 
letters,"  said  he,  "at  the  petition  of  my  brothers,  but 
they  have  been  falsified  by  the  messengers  of  Satan,  who 
found  it  their  interest  to  make  additions  and  omissions. 
If  they  cannot  pass  unimportant  works  without  injuring 
them,  it  may  not  be  much  wondered  at,  if  from  the  same 
source,  the  text  of  Holy  Scripture  becomes  hacked  and 
maimed." 

With  just  this  view,  to  face  the  faith  and  plant  Hope 
in  a  soul  weighed  down  with  grief,  the  saint  found  him- 
self urged  on  to  suspend  his  widely  spread  activity  for 
some  days,  and  visit  Metella.  Detached  as  he  was  from 
earth,  this  visit  was  to  perform  no  earthly  duty.  No- 
thing but  an  immortal  soul  found  value  in  his  eyes;  and 
little  did  it  trouble  him,  whether  he  had  to  seek  it  in  a 
palace,  or  in  a  wretched  hovel.  Let  us  follow  the  holy 
man,  bent  with  the  burden  of  age  and  heavy  duties, 
wending  his  way  slowly  towards  Theredron. 

In  his  aged  countenance  shities  forth  a  soul,  inflamed 
with  the  love  of  God.  With  a  magnetic  power  he  draws 
all  to  Him,  and  gains  the  esteem  and  love  of  those  with 
whom  he  converses. 

As  much  as  Metella  had  been  accustomed,  from  her 
earliest  years,  to  mix  with  those  of  the  highest  rank  and 
deepest  learning,  she  had  never  met  one  who  had  made 
so  great  an  impression  upon  her,  or  who  had  inspired 
her  with  so  much  awe,  as  this  venerable  man. 

It  appeared  to  her,  as  if  a  more  than  ordinary  spirit 
was  concealed  within  his  breast. 


172  DIONTSIUS    OF    CORINTH. 

She  expressed  her  gratitude  that  her  afflictions  were 
shared  in  so  sincerely  from  the  side  of  the  Christians. 
"My  mind,"  said  she  to  him,  "is  iu  the  same  wrecked 
condition  as  my  body.  It  appears  to  me  as  if  the  God 
of  the  Christians,  whom  I  saw  in  a  vision,  was  drawing 
me  up  to  His  glory  of  streaming  light.  But  scarcely 
had  I  raised  my  thoughts  to  Him,  when  I  seemed  to  be- 
hold the  gods  of  Greece  looking  angrily  at  me,  and  that 
Jupiter  on  that  account  has  allowed  this  lightning  of 
misfortune  to  strike  me,  for  having  forsaken  him  and 
turned  to  the  God  of  the  Christians. 

"  I  totter  like  a  child  who  is  just  learning  to  walk, 
first  leaning  to  one  side,  and  then  to  the  other. 

"And  yet  there  can  be  but  one  true  God,  —  either  the 
God  of  the  Christians  or  the  god  of  the  heathens.  For 
the  truth  has  this  peculiarity — that  no  second  truth 
stands  near  it. 

"Kevered  master,  unloose  this  knot,  and  give  my 
mind  a  rest  after  which  it  has  so  long  sighed !  Give  me 
the  true  faith." 

"It  would  be  a  vain  thought,"  said  he,  "if  a  Christian 
were  to  believe  that  it  is  he  who  gives  the  Faith.  Faith 
comes  from  God  alone,  and  is  the  greatest  gift  He  can 
bestow  on  mortals.  To  some  he  gives  it  in  a  greater 
degree,  to  others  in  a  lesser.  Faith  is  a  light  that  illu- 
minates the  spiritual  darkness,  yet  in  each  it  is  but  a 
weak  lamp  till  lighted  up  in  th$  great  Luminary — 
Jesus  Christ  Himself. 

"For  some,  the  oil  is  scarcely  sufficient  for  their  own 
necessities,  to  pass  through  the  dark  labyrinth  of  life ; 
they  can  scarcely  see  a  few  steps  before  them  on  their 


DIONYSIUS    OF   CORINTH.  173 

pilgrimage  to  the  other  world,  much  less  to  light  them 
selves  with  it  into  the  glory  of  Heaven.  Should  the 
fuel  of  this  heavenly  light  fail,  and  the  lamp  threaten 
to  extinguish,  we  must  not  lose  courage;  even  the 
Apostles  experienced  this,  as  they  once  expressed  it: 
'Lord,  increase  our  faith!' 

"Concerning  the  question  of  whether  misfortune 
comes  from  the  God  of  the  Christians,  or  from  the 
highest  god  of  the  heathens :  suppose  that  Jupiter 
sends  the  misfortune, — is  it  not  incomprehensible  why 
he  does  not  punish  all  the  Hellenes  that  do  not  believe 
in  him,  insomuch  that  many  of  the  learned  have  for- 
saken the  religion  of  their  forefathers  ?  But  above  all, 
Jupiter  would  have  to  punish  the  Christians  who  in- 
tend to  annihilate  his  altars  and  temple.  If  your  mis- 
fortune be  sent  to  you  by  the  God  of  the  Christians,  it 
is  easily  explained." 

"  How  I  Does  your  God  then,  who  is  called  the 
source  of  all  good,  send  misfortune  and  affliction  to 
them?"  asked  the  heathen. 

"God  is  a  vine-dresser,"  said  Dionysius,  "who  lays 
the  knife  to  the  vine,  and  cuts  off  its  withered  branches, 
that  it  may  bring  forth  stronger  fruit.  We  feel  the 
wounds  he  inflicts,  't  is  true ;  and  they  press  out  most 
bitter  tears,  like  the  drop  that  falls  from  the  pruned 
vine :  but  we  must  bear  in  mind  that  this  Vine-Dresser 
cuts  off  that  only  which  is  hurtful  and  unfruitful. 

"If  you  will  raise  the  veil  of  your  conscience,  you 
will  discover  that  the  divine  love  has  seen  also  some- 
thing in  you  that  must  be  pruned,  to  make  you  truly 
fruitful." 
15* 


174  DIONTSIUS    OF    CORINTH. 

• 

"  What  do  you  mean,  revered  master  ?  " 
'  Perhaps  it  was  the  love  of  the  world,  or  the  love  of 
riches,  or  the  love  of  the  creature,  that  held  thee  en- 
chained, so  that  the  thought  of  eternity  was  stupefied 
by  that  of  time.  Perhaps,  since  this  trial  has  happened 
to  you,  that  you  think  much  oftener  on  the  God  of 
Heaven,  on  your  last  end,  and  on  your  son,  who  has 
found  peace  by  the  side  of  his  God." 

"  O  how  truly  have  you  spoken !  Does  then  the  Di- 
vinity send  sorrow  to  lead  us  to  truth  and  happiness  ? — 
That  is  an  act  worthy  of  the  highest  Being. 

"But  Plato  did  not  suppose  that,  when  he  said  that 
the  human  mind  stands  still  when  it  reflects  on  wicked- 
ness. Am  I  right,  Dionysius,  to  believe  that  the 
Divinity  in  thus  afflicting  me,  loves  me  more  than 
ever?" 

"Without  doubt,  Metella; — whom  God  punishes,  He 
also  loves." 

"O  how  willingly  would  I  bear  each  punishment, 
were  I  certain  that  the  Divinity  would  thereby  lead  me 
to  the  happy  plains-! 

"  But  do  you  believe,  revered  master,  that  God  sees 
through  the  immeasurable  extent  of  my  anguish  ?  No 
language  on  earth  is  capable  of  expressing  the  misery 
of  a  mother's  sorrow  at  the  loss  of  her  only  child." 

Dionysius  now  drew  forth  a  scroll,  upon  which  he  had 
written  some  words,  with  the  intention  of  giving  them 
to  the  afflicted  matron. 

They  were  taken  from  the  Gospel  of  St.  Luke,  and 
were  on  the  touching  sympathy  our  Lord  expressed  to- 
wards an  afflicted  widow.  He  read  aloud : 


DIONYSIVS    OF    CORINTH.  175 

"As  Jesus  came  nigh  to  the  gates  of  the  city  of  Nairn, 
behold  a  dead  man  was  carried  out,  the  only  son  of  hi& 
mother;  and  she  was  a  widow:  and  a  great  multitude 
of  the  city  was  with  her.  Whom  when  the  Lord  had 
seen,  being  moved  with  mercy  towards  her,  he  said  to 
her,  'Weep  not!'  and  he  came  near  and  touched  the 
bier.  And  they  that  carried  it  stood  still,  and  He  said, 
'Young  man,  I  say  unto  thee,  arise;'  and  he  that  was 
dead,  sat  up,  and  began  to  speak.  And  He  gave  him  to 
his  mother." 

"That  same  Lord,"  said  Dionysius,  "who  felt  pity  for 
the  afflicted  widow  of  Nairn,  feels  also  for  thee,  and  the 
moment  will  come  in  which  he  will  say  to  thee,  'Weep 
not,'  and  He  will  restore  to  thee  thy  beloved  son." 

Metella  felt  herself  gaining  new  strength,  as  she  heard 
of  this  wonderful  event,  and  with  the  saint's  explanation. 
"You  give  me  also  the  same  hope  that  Athenagoras 
did.  He  said  that  I  should  yet  be  united  to  the  blessed 
in  Heaven." 

"Certainly,  if  you  fulfil  the  conditions  on  which  God 
grants  the  crown  of  happiness. 

"Faith  and  virtue  unite  themselves  in  our  Lord,  like 
the  two  sisters,  Martha  and  Mary ;  while  one  sits  at  His 
feet,  the  other  is  anxiously  occupied  about  Him.  Who- 
ever is  acquainted  with  the  one  sister,  will  most  cer- 
tainly be  introduced  to  the  other.  Form  a  friendship 
with  Christian  virtue,  and  that  virtue  will  soon  lead  you 
to  faith.  '  Will  you  know  if  my  doctrine  is  from  God,' 
said  Christ,  'so  observe  it.'  It  is  something  beautiful 
to  occupy  one's  self  with  study,  and  to  refresh  one's 
self  in  the  treasures  of  knowledge  as  in  a  cooling 


176  DIONYSIUS    OF    CORINTH. 

spring.  There  is  something  dignified  in  reflecting  on 
the  things  we  have  read,  that  we  may  come  nearer  and 
nearer  to  the  truth.  But  virtue  leads  you  higher  than 
wisdom.  Worldly  wisdom  is  a  deep  sea,  many  draw 
from  it  the  pearl  of  truth,  but  many,  death." 

"But  what  virtues  do  you  recommend  to  me  in  par- 
ticular, in  order  that  I  may  secure  for  myself  the  happi- 
ness of  Heaven  ?  " 

"A  holy  pope,"  said  he,  "sent  a  letter  once  to  our 
Church  in  Corinth,  which  we  still  read  on  Sundays.  It 
commences  thus : 

"The  all-wise  Creator  of  the  world  knows  the  multi- 
tude and  beauty  of  the  Heavenly  enjoyments.  Let  us 
strive  to  be  found  amongst  the  number  of  those  who 
wait  to  partake  of  His  promised  gifts.  How  shall  we 
attain  thereto  ?  If  we  in  the  faith  hold  fast  on  God,  if 
we  reflect  upon  what  is  pleasing  and  agreeable  to  God, 
that  we  may  accomplish  His  holy  will.  Let  us  walk  in 
the  path  of  truth,  and  cast  aside  all  injustice,  covetous- 
ness,  discord,  wickedness,  lust,  loquacity,  hatred,  arro- 
gance, pride,  vainglory,  and  self -sufficiency."* 

Metella  listened  with  profound  attention,  and  on  the 
venerable  man  rising  to  depart,  she  promised  him  to 
practise  zealously  all  the  virtues  he  had  just  dictated. 

Eeport  soon  circulated  amongst  her  friends  and  ac- 
quaintances, that  she ,  was  about  to  adopt  a  religion 
which  was  nothing  short  of  folly.  They  used  their 
utmost  endeavors  to  dissuade  her  from  such  a  step. 
Her  ancient  nobility,  her  dazzling  wealth,  the  fame  of 
her  learning,  the  displeasure  of  the  Emperor, — all 

*  Pope  Clement,  in  his  letter  to  the  Corinthians,  Chap,  xxxiv. 


DIONTSIUS    OF    CORINTH.  177 

these,  they  said,  should  deter   her  from    becoming  a 
Christian. 

She  was  placed  in  the  most  agonizing  position 
Doubts  gnawed  again  upon  the  freshness  of  the  soul, 
and  it  appeared  to  her  as  though  she  must  sink  under 
the  combat,  that  was  passing  within. 


ONTHS  had  passed  since  the  Greek  ma- 
tron had  received  the  melancholy  intelli- 
gence of  her  son's  death.  Harvest  and 
Winter  had  come  and  gone,  and  she  was 
still  at  her  villa.  Pale  and  reduced  to  a 
shadow,  she  wandered  through  her  costly 
apartments,  clad  in  deep  mourning.  Noth- 
ing could  charm  her  now.  She  often  sat  in  the  court- 
yard for  hours,  gazing  listlessly  on  the  waters  of  the 
fountain,  or  wandered  by  moonlight,  seeking  consola- 
tion in  the  soothing  and  melancholy  strains  of  the  night- 
ingale. Dionysius  endeavored  to  raise  her  depressed 
spirits  by  letters,  but  his  pious  sister,  Chrysophora,  as 
he  called  Metella,  could  not  be  comforted.  What  he 
built  up,  Metella's  friends  would  pull  down  again, — 
and  particularly  the  intellectual  Lucian,  just  returned 
from  Egypt,  did  not  fail  to  set  up  Christianity  to  ridi- 
cule. He  compared  the  Christians  with  the  inhabitants 
of  Aldera,  who,  by  listening  to  a  single  Grecian  de- 
claimer,  became  so  insane,  that  they  spoke  ever  after  in 

(178) 


THE    CONVERSION.  179 

the  spirit  of  Sophocles,  and  even  in  the  streets  talked 
only  in  Iambic  measure.  Such  derision  had  a  paralyz- 
ing effect  on  Metella's  soul,  and  she  longed  for  nothing 
so  much  as  death ;  and  then  she  knew  not  whether  she 
should  die  as  a  Christian  or  as  a  heathen.  So  far,  doubt 
had  brought  her  to  the  brink  of  despair. 

The  human  mind  has  a  natural  desire  for  truth,  and 
as  long  as  it  finds  it  not,  it  has  no  rest,  and  feels  only 
melancholy  and  a  death-like  anxiety.  The  mind  of 
man  strives  after  truth  as  his  heart  does  after  love ;  but 
when  a  doubt  is  in  the  case,  two  elements  mingle  to- 
gether, error  and  truth,  which  form  such  a  miserable  state 
in  the  mind,  that  it  can  only  be  compared  to  the  chaotic 
mixture  of  earth  and  water.  Metella's  corporal  strength 
sank  under  such  sufferings.  She  scarcely  touched  food, 
and  medical  aid  was  resorted  to  in  vain.  She  wasted 
away,  and  was  no  longer  able  to  leave  her  apartment 
without  the  assistance  of  her  attendants. 

"  I  feel  it,"  said  she  one  day,  "  that  surly  Charon  is 
pushing  off  his  bark  and  waits  for  me  at  the  sea  of 
Acheron.  Do  not  forget  to  put  the  Obolus  (penny) 
under  my  tongue.  The  light  of  my  eyes,  the  flash  of 
which  has  made  hundreds  of  slaves  tremble,  will  soon 
be  extinguished.  Existence  here  below  has  no  charm 
for  me.  Sorrow  has  one  advantage — it  frees  us  from 
the  fear  of  death." 

In  this  state  she  had  but  one  wish  left — to  see  Diony- 
sius.  He  also  had  an  intense  desire  to  see  Metella  con- 
verted before  he  died ;  and  he  was  convinced  that  she 
would  be  a  pattern  for  the  Christians  of  Greece;  and 
therefore  he  besought  God  to  spare  her  life,  for  the 


180  THE    CONVERSION. 

honor  of  His  Son,  and  to  grant  to  the  much-tried  one 
her  health,  as  well  as  a  believing  heart.  On  his  way  to 
Eleusis,  he  continued  his  fervent  prayer,  and  ascended 
the  steps  of  Metella's  villa  absorbed  in  meditation.  On 
entering  her  apartment,  he  found  her  lying  on  a  sofa, 
apparently  at  the  point  of  death,  and  the  slaves  sobbing 
round  their  dying  mistress.  Theirs  was  not  the  grief 
of  hirelings,  for  she  had  lately  won  their  tenderest  love. 
Amongst  them  stood  Lydia,  a  monument  of  silent  resig- 
nation. 

No  one  could  discover  whether  Metella  was  in  a  swoon 
or  sleep.  She  lay  there  like  a  fallen  oak,  that  once 
stood  proudly  on  the  hill,  till  the  storms  came  and  laid 
it  low. 

Dionysius  wept  as  he  beheld  this  fading  hope  of  the 
Church.  Casting  himself  on  his  knees,  he  continued 
long  in  prayer,  and  all  the  slaves  knelt  with  him.  At 
last  he  rose,  as  if  he  had  received  a  command  from 
above.  He  raised  his  eyes  to  Heaven,  and  passed  his 
aged  hands  noiselessly  over  the  sick-bed.  The  by- 
standers felt  a  holy  awe,  as  they  saw  the  trembling 
hands  and  uplifted  eyes  of  the  saintly  man.  He  then 
uttered  aloud  :  "  In  the  name  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ." 

At  these  words,  Metella's  eyes  opened,  and  a  delicate 
blush  suffused  her  cheeks.  She  sat  up,  and  seized  the 
hand  of  the  Bishop  and  kissed  it.  "Oh,  I  have  much 
to  say  to  you,  my  venerable  friend,  before  I  pass  away ! 
Faith  in  the  Divinity  of  Jesus  Christ  is  the  broad 
chasm  over  which  I  can  find  no  bridge.  Human  wis- 
dom has  its  limits.  She  can  imagine  the  Divinity,  but 
cannot  prove  it,  because  she  is  human.  Oh,  Dionysius ! 


THE    CONVERSION.  181 

who  will  cast  this  bridge  across,  if  God  Himself  will 
not ;  in  a  wonderful  manner,  let  me  know  Him.  Yes, 
show  me  the  Divine  power  of  miracles  of  which  you 
have  so  often  spoken,  and  I  will  believe — believe  as 
no  heart  has  ever  yet  believed." 

Dionysius  replied,  with  a  heavenly  calm,  "God  has 
just  given  you  a  proof." 

Metella  looked  round,  and  could  not  describe  how  she 
felt.  All  present  were  trembling,  for  they  saw  the  won- 
derful effect  of  God's  power  with  their  own  eyes. 

She  gazed  around  as  if  about  to  ask  how  she  was 
cured ;  the  saintly  man  quickly  answered  her  inquiring 
look.  "Not  by  human,  but  by  Divine  aid  you  have 
been  restored  to  health."  Metella  now  perceived  for  the 
first  time,  that  she  had  risen  as  if  from  the  grave,  and 
that  a  new  life  had  diffused  itself  through  her  entire 
frame.  She  arose  and  walked  without  any  assistance. 

The  astonishment  of  all  present  was  a  pledge  to  her 
that  she  did  not  dream.  She  confessed  that  her  lost 
strength  had  been  restored  to  her  in  the  name  of  the 
Eedeemer,  and  she  began  to  praise  and  glorify  Him. 
This  is  the  signification  of  a  miracle  that  it  is  per- 
formed in  the  name  of  Jesus  Christ, — a  proof  to  man 
that  He  fulfils  His  own  promises,  and  that  whatsoever 
is  asked  of  the  Eternal  Father  in  His  name  shall  be 
granted. 

"From  this  moment  I  believe!"  exclaimed  Meteila; 
'  yes,  I  believe  that  Christ  is  more  than  man,  and  I  will 
preserve  this  belief  to  the  end  of  my  days."  Dionysius 
made  the  sign  of  the  cross  upon  her  forehead; — she 

knelt  down,  and  that  once  proud  head  bent  humbly, 
10 


182  THE    CONVERSION. 

and  petitioned  to  be  numbered  amongst  the  followers  of 
Jesus  Christ,  and  to  receive  baptism.  It  was  the  cus- 
tom in  the  Church  from  the  very  commencement,  that 
those  who  wished  to  receive  baptism  were  obliged  be- 
forehand, as  Tertullian  says,  to  prepare  themselves  by 
diligent  prayer,  fasting,  nightly  watching,  and  the  con- 
fessing of  their  sins.*  Dionysius  decided  that  the  neo- 
phite  should  be  formally  received  into  the  Church  on 
the  coming  Easter  eve,  and  ordered  her  to  prepare  for 
the  solemn  occasion  by  religious  practices.  Every  day 
enriched  her  in  works  of  perfection ;  clearer  and  clearer 
rose  the  heavenly  truth  out  of  the  chaos  of  her  former 
ideas.  God  created  the  world  and  man  through  love, 
and  through  that  same  love  He  sent  His  only-begotten 
Son  for  man's  redemption.  To  allow  God  to  love  us, 
and  to  love  Him  in  return,  form  the  Heavenly  bond  on 
earth,  which  we  call  religion.  Love  is  all  the  issue, 
means,  and  aim  of  all  things. 

A  few  days  before  Easter,  Metella  assembled  her  en- 
tire household  of  slaves,  and  presented  them  with  their 
freedom, — that  treasure  so  much  prized  by  man,  and 
after  which  many  of  them  had  sighed  for  years,  but 
never  had  hope  of  obtaining  it  in  this  life.  Many  of 
Metella's  inferiors  had  already  enjoyed  these  first-fruits 
springing  from  the  soil  of  a  believing  mind.  Some  re- 
turned to  their  longed-for  homes,  and  to  their  families, 
but  the  greater  number  having  no  homes,  offered  their 
services  anew  for  the  same  wages  as  before.  As  soon 
as  Lydia  heard  of  this  gracious  act,  she  was  not  a 
moment  in  doubt  as  to  what  she  would  do.  She  had 

*  Tertullian  on  Baptism,  Chapter  ix. 


THE    CONVERSION.  183 

already  been  many  years  in  slavery,  and  had  saved  as 
much  of  her  wages  as  would  have  purchased  her  free- 
dom. With  this  money  she  now  intended  to  seek  after 
her  mother  in  distant  Rome.  Then  she  resolved,  that 
if  her  money  were  insufficient,  to  offer  herself  as  a  sub- 
stitute, for  her  mother,  thereby  to  release  her  and  secure 
to  her  a  quiet  evening  of  life. 

Metella  asked  her,  one  day,  what  her  views  were  for 
the  future ;  and  she  answered,  with  an  embarrassed  air, 
"  It  will  cost  me  much  to  leave  my  present  home,  but 
the  duty  I  owe  my  mother  requires  this  sacrifice,  and 
therefore  I  am  resolved  on  journeying  to  Rome." 

Concealing  the  indescribable  agony  that  this  separa- 
tion was  causing  her,  Metella,  although  it  appeared  to 
her  to  be  the  greatest  she  could  offer,  was  still  willing  to 
lay  this  sacrifice  on  the  altar  of  her  God.  Placing  her 
hand  on  Lydia's  shoulder,  she  said,  "Do  not  let  us  think 
of  anything  sorrowful  during  these  days  of  peace.  I 
never  supposed  that  so  many  ties  of  gratitude  and 
friendship  could  ever  bind  me  to  a  single  mortal. 
What  was  I  before  the  grace  of  God  brought  you  into 
my  house? — a  foolish  creature,  shining  like  a  gilded 
statue  of  the  gods,  and  worshipped  by  many  fools.  In- 
deed, I  resembled  that  colossal  statue  in  the  Temple  of 
Jupiter  at  Athens.  From  without,  it  appears  to  be  com- 
posed of  nothing  but  gold  and  ivory,  and  before  which 
each  one  stands  in  astonishment  and  awe,  but  bend 
yourself  and  look  into  the  interior,  and  what  do  you 
there  behold  ?  Nothing  but  wooden  rafters,  nuts, 
wedges  and  clumps,  pitch  and  clay,  and  a  quantity  of 
such  stuff)  not  to  say  anything  of  the  rats  and  mice  that 


184  THE    CONVERSION. 

take  up  their  abode  in  the  yacuum.  Such  was  I,  my 
very  dear  child,  in  the  hidden  depths  of  my  soul.  If  I 
am  otherwise  now,  the  merit  is  thine."  She  broke  off 
the  discourse,  and  hastened  to  her  apartment,  deeply  af- 
fected with  gratitude  and  sorrow. 

As  she  had  been  for  some  time  ranked  amongst  the 
number  of  the  catechumens,  she  fulfilled  the  duties  and 
sometimes  visited  the  place  of  meeting  at  Corinth,  where 
the  Christians  assembled.  It  is  known  that,  in  the  first 
centuries,  those  who  sought  to  be  received  into  the  com- 
munion of  the  Church  were  divided  into  three  classes : 
those  of  the  first  class  were  called  "Listeners,"  because 
they  had  only  permission  to  be  present  at  the  sermon ; 
those  of  the  second  class  were  called  the  "  Kneelers,"  as 
they  knelt  for  a  time  after  the  sermon,  to  receive  the 
prayers  and  blessing  of  the  Bishop ;  the  third  class  was 
called  the  "  Elect."  The  last-mentioned  remained  in  the 
church  till  after  the  Credo,  when,  at  the  command  of  the 
Beacon,  "Go,  the  mass  commences,"  —  "Ite  missa  est," 
they  were  obliged  to  leave. 

The  Spring  approached, — that  time  of  grace  in  which 
the  Church  celebrates  the  greatest  of  her  festivals.  The 
Resurrection  of  the  Son  of  God  coincides  with  the 
resuscitation  of  dead  Nature,  and  the  conquest  of  the 
heavenly  Paradise  by  the  second  Adam  is  yearly  an- 
nounced by  joyful  verdant  May,  which  animates  again 
the  mountain  valley,  thicket,  brake,  and  forest.  This 
rejoicing  of  Nature  strikes  in  each  breast  the  responding 
chord,  but  where  is  it  so  vividly  and  melodiously  en- 
toned  as  where  it  thaws  the  ice-covering  of  self, — and 
when  a  new  life  of  grace  begins  to  bloom  over  benumbed 


THE    CONVERSION.  185 

egotism;  when  the  angels  unite  themselves  as  guides, 
and  begin  to  announce  to  the  awakening  soul  their 
songs  of  the  heavenly  spheres. 

These  days,  previous  to  receiving  the  Sacrament  of 
Baptism,  Metella  summoned  all  her  servants  to  attend. 

It  was  an  ancient  custom  that  on  the  feast  of  Saturn 
in  December,  and  on  the  first  day  of  the  month  of  Au- 
gust, the  slaves  were  served  at  table  by  their  masters. 
Since  the  death  of  Metellus,  this  feast  had  not  been  cele- 
brated in  Theredron.  It  was  now  going  to  be  solemnized 
in  a  more  touching  manner.  Our  Divine  Lord,  King 
of  Heaven  and  earth,  had,  a  short  time  before  Easter, 
prepared  a  feast  for  His  disciples,  and  showed  himself 
as  the  servant  of  all.  He  washed  their  feet  and  waited 
on  them.  In  commemoration  of  this,  Metella  ordered 
her  servants  to  sit  at  table,  took,  according  to  the  cus- 
tom of  a  server,  a  towel,  girt  herself  therewith,  and 
waited  on  them.  The  feast  at  an  end,  she  begged  par- 
don of  all  in  general,  and  each  one  in  particular  whom 
she  had  offended  through  her  natural  hastiness  of  tem- 
per, and  she  practised  thereby  one  of  the  most  beautiful 
virtues;  these  acts  of  humility  being  most  painful  to 
nature,  are  therefore  the  most  meritorious.  It  is  a  noble 
act  to  acknowledge  our  faults,  and  for  a  noble  action  no 
one  is  too  noble. 

We  will  now  accompany  our  neophite  to  the  threshold 
of  the  church  at  Corinth.  There  she  stands  like  the 
lowliest  among  the  petitioners,  asking  to  be  received 
into  the  communion  of  the  Church.  The  Bishop  re- 
minded the  supplicants  of  the  persecution  that  awaited 
them  on  earth,  and  of  the  triumph  that  awaited  them  in 
16* 


186  THE    CONVERSION. 

Heaven.  He  then  stepped  forward,  —  as  in  former  times 
Baptisms  were  only  administered  by  the  Bishop,  —  and 
laid  his  hand  on  the  head  of  each,  as  Ananias  did  once 
on  the  blind  Saul,  and  signed  each  one  on  the  forehead 
with  the  sign  of  Eedemption; — as  the  faithful  pro- 
nounced the  words  which  a  noble  neophite  once  said  to 
Philip,  "I  believe  that  Jesus  Christ  is  the  Son  of  Grod." 
They  then  abjured  the  devil,  after  which  they  were  ex- 
orcised and  reminded  of  the  words:  "Heal  the  sick, 
raise  the  dead,  cleanse  the  lepers,  cast  out  the  devils." 
While  repeating  the  Credo,  the  catechumens  entered  the 
church,  where  they  were  anointed  with  oil,  and  they  then 
proceeded  to  the  Baptistry,  which  in  ancient  times  was 
very  capacious,  and  amply  provided  with  water.  Each 
one  was  taken  separately  by  a  deacon  or  deaconess  and 
immersed  three  times :  so  the  expression,  "  Bath  of  Ke- 
generation,"  signified,  in  the  actual  sense  of  the  word,  a 
bath  of  water.  This  immersion  required  fresh  garments, 
and  it  was  then  the  newly  baptized  received  the  white 
robe,  —  the  figure  of  a  spotless  soul,  —  which  garment 
they  wore  till  the  eighth  day  after  Easter,  which  is  called 
"Dominica  in  Albis,"  or  the  "Sunday  in  White." 

Metella  was  instructed  in  each  particular  ceremony, 
until  her  regeneration  was  perfected  in  water  and  the 
Holy  Spirit.  But  the  new  covenant  into  which  she  had 
just  entered,  must  now  be  sealed  by  that  most  dignified 
of  all  mysteries,  the  holy  Eucharist.  "The  body  of 
Christ,"  said  Dionysius,  and  he  placed  the  Blessed  Eu- 
charist in  her  hand.  He  then  took  the  golden  chalice 
and  held  it  to  her  lips  with  the  words,  "  The  chalice,  or 
cup  of  life,"  and  Metella  deemed  herself  trul^  blest  to 


THE    CONVERSION.  187 

drink  of  the  blood  of  the  Kedeemer.  This  heavenly 
beverage  brought  her  into  a  new  affinity,  —  the  blood 
of  the  Messias  flowed  in  her  veins.  What  delight 
sparkled  in  her  eyes,  and  what  joy  diffused  itself  over 
her  countenance !  Her  past  sufferings  and  her  agonizing 
doubts  were  at  an  end!  How  rich  did  not  the  Faith 
render  her!  "What  life  with  its  sorrowful  events  had 
taken,  grace  had  indemnified  in  rich  measure  and  flow- 
ing over.  Death  deprived  her  of  a  husband,  and  grace 
bestowed  upon  her  in  the  Eedeemer  a  heavenly  Bride- 
groom. Death  tore  from  her  a  dear  son,  the  only  hope 
of  her  future  life ;  grace  opened  to  her  the  prospect  of 
being  united  with  him  again. 

The  prayer  of  the  venerable  and  saintly  Dionysius 
was  heard,  and  the  precious  soul  was  after  great  wander- 
ing brought  into  the  one  true  fold.  The  joy  that  beamed 
on  his  aged  countenance  expressed  the  feelings  of  his 
heart.  He  raised  his  hands  on  high  and  invoked  a  bless- 
ing on  Metella,  and  on  the  humble  Lydia,  whose  virtu- 
ous example  ui  ged  her  to  seek  after,  and  find  the  Way 
the  Truth,  and  the  Life. 


CHAPTER    XVII. 


MARCUS    AURELIUS'     CONQUEST 
MARCOMANNI. 


OF    THE 


HILE  Metella  was  enjoying  this  peace  of 
soul,  to  which  she  had  till  then  been  a 
stranger,  the  troops  returned  from  the  dis- 
tant campaign,  and  were  received  amidst 
the  rejoicings  of  the  people.  In  Eome,  a 
magnificent  triumphal  procession  was  pre- 
pared for  the  Emperor,  and  in  all  the 
other  cities  of  his  vast  dominions  the  conquest  was  cele- 
brated with  public  feasts,  processions,  sacrifices  of  thanks- 
givings, and  bull-fights.  Athens  alsp  opened  its  numer- 
ous temples,  and  offered  sacrifice.  Public  games  and 
festivities  continued  for  several  weeks  without  intermis- 
sion. The  Athenians  even  thought  of  introducing  the 
combats  of  Gladiators,  but  old  Lucien  said  to  them  con- 
temptuously, "Don't  resolve  on  this  till  at  least  the  altar 
of  commiseration  be  done  away  with  among  you."  * 

Before  we  relate  anything  of  this  memorable  conquest, 
which  the  Romans  gained  over  the  Germans,  and  which 
was  much  more  a  conquest  of  Faith  than  of  arms,  let  us 


*  Lucien,  D.  N.  57. 


(188) 


CONQUEST    OF   THE   MARCOMANNI.     189 

introduce  a  few  remarks  on  the  character  of  the  Em- 
peror. At  an  early  age,  Marcus  Aurelius  distinguished 
himself  by  the  qualities  of  his  mind  and  heart.  He  was 
but  a  boy  of  eight  years  when  he  was  received  into  a 
particular  confraternity  of  priests,  in  whose  society  he 
received  his  first  religious  impressions.  He  always  de- 
clared himself  to  be  an  advocate  for  public  worship,  and 
on  that  account  he  is  sometimes  compared  with  the  pious 
Numa  Pornpilius.  Once  weeping  over  the  death  of  one 
of  his  teachers,  to  the  astonishment  of  those  present,  and 
of  which  some  of  the  youths  complained,  the  Emperor 
Antoninus,  his  adopted  father,  beautifully  replied,  "Allow 
him  to  be  human,  —  neither  philosophy  nor  imperial 
dignity  ought  to  deprive  him  of  feeling." 

In  the  second  year  of  Antoninus'  reign,  he  married 
him  to  his  daughter  Faustina,  and  took  him  shortly  after 
into  the  consulship.  Marcus  was  only  twenty-six  years 
old,  when  the  Emperor  bestowed  upon  him  the  honor 
of  the  Tribuneship,  and  even  the  Eegency,  which,  though 
not  publicly  proclaimed,  still  was  actually  so.  His  affec- 
tion for  the  Emperor  was  so  ardent,  that  he  never  once 
left  him  during  the  twenty-five  years  which  elapsed 
from  his  adoption  to  his  death.  He  was  forty  years  old 
when  he  began  first  to  wield  the  Eoman  Sceptre.  He 
was  an  Emperor,  favorable  to  philosophy,  and  thought, 
with  Plato,  that  those  people  were  happy  whose  philoso- 
phers were  kings  or  whose  kings  were  philosophers. 
According  to  the  wish  of  the  new  Emperor,  the  Roman 
Senate  took  his  adopted  brother  Lucius  Verus  as  col- 
league, but  he  troubled  himself  more  about  his  eating 
and  drinking  than  the  happiness  of  the  people. 


190         MARCUS   ADRELIVS'    CONQUEST 

Aurelius  was  most  intent  on  preserving  the  old  reli- 
gion and  encouraging  learning.  If  he  were  in  anything 
blameworthy,  it  was  in  his  great  indulgence  to  his  son 
Commodus,  as  also  towards  his  wife  Faustina,  and  the 
absolute  authority  which  he  allowed  his  officials  in  the 
provinces  to  exercise.  Neither  can  he  be  exonerated 
from  cruelty  during  the  war  with  the  Marcomanni : 
some  of  his  officers  with  their  men  stood  once  before 
him,  and  informed  him,  that  they  had  killed  three  thou- 
sand of  the  enemy,  and  had  taken  great  booty ;  but  as 
they  had  received  no  commands  for  this,  the  Emperor 
ordered  them  to  be  crucified  for  having  broken  military 
discipline.  There  arose  amongst  the  soldiers  loud  clamors 
of  displeasure,  but  the  Emperor  sprang  into  the  midst 
of  them  unarmed,  and  cried,  "Well  then,  put  me  to 
death,  and  add  a  new  crime  to  the  one  already  com- 
mitted." He  also  ordered  many  thousands  in  Selucia  to 
be  executed  during  the  Parthian  war.  His  reign  was  a 
most  unquiet  one.  The  Catti,  the  Marcomanni,  the  Scy- 
thians, and  other  people  were  const-ant  disturbers,  and  in 
addition,  several  cities  in  his  dominions  were  desolated 
either  by  earthquakes,  plagues,  or  famine.  The  heathen 
priests  sought  in  every  possible  way  to  appease  the  anger 
of  the  gods,  but  without  effect,  and  at  last  they  threw  all 
the  blame  upon  the  Christians,  who  were  consequently 
delivered  up  to  public  persecutions. 

Amongst  the  wars  which  Marcus  Aurelius  had  con- 
ducted, the  one  against  the  Marcomanni  and  Quadi  was 
the  most  stubborn.  No  battle  that  was  ever  fought 
since  the  foundation  of  Rome  was  so  remarkable  as  that 
over  the  Marcomanni.  The  following  is  a  short  account 
of  it,  and  is  taken  chiefly  from  Dio  Cassius. 


OF    THE    MARCOMANNI.  191 

In  the  year  A.D.  174,  Marcus  Aurelius,  with  his  sol- 
diers, found  himself  in  the  heart  of  Germany.  The 
barbarians  pressed  his  army  into  a  deep  valley,  that  was 
surrounded  on  all  sides  by  quarries  and  steep  rocks ; 
having  completely  hemmed  them  in,  they  ascended  the 
heights  and  looked  down  upon  them  with  savage  exulta- 
tion. The  courage  of  the  Eomans  sank  still  deeper,  as 
the  dreadful  effects  of  the  climate  added  to  their  dis- 
tress. They  had  already  been  for  five  days  without 
water,  so  that  they  were  almost  consumed  by  a  burning 
thirst.  In  this  extreme  distress,  the  commander-in-chief 
of  the  Prsetorean  Cohort  sought  the  Emperor  and  said 
to  him,  "  Caesar,  a  portion  of  our  troops,  the  Melitani 
Legion,  consists  of  Christians ;  to  them  nothing  is  im- 
possible." 

"Let  them  pray,"  said  the  Emperor,  and  in  an  instant 
the  Christian  soldiers  to  a  man  fell  upon  their  knees. 
They  conjured  the  true  God  to  let  his  name  be  known 
and  glorified  in  that  hour.  Their  prayer  was  scarcely 
ended,  when  dark  clouds  collected,  the  thunder  rolled 
in  the  distance,  and  peals  re-echoed  against  the  rocky 
walls  of  their  mountain  valley.  The  lightning,  in  vivid 
flashes,  accompanied  by  a  heavy  hail-storm,  struck  the 
rocks  where  the  barbarians  were  posted.  The  flashes 
were  so  terrific,  and  followed  each  other  in  such  rapid 
succession,  that  in  a  few  minutes  the  enemy  fell  into 
disorder.  But  in  the  valley,  a  soft  rain  fell  upon  the 
parched  Eomans,  who  held  out  their  helmets  to  receive 
it,  and  drank  in  copious  draughts  of  the  refreslrnent 
sent  them  from  Heaven.  Dio  Cassius,  a  heathen  writer, 
has  assured  us  that  fire  and  water  descended  from  heaven 


192        MARCUS    AURELIUS'     CONQUEST 

at  the  same  time.  Our  army,  said  he,  was  refreshed,  the 
other  was  consumed;  for  the  water  that  fell  upon  the 
Eomans  in  refreshing  showers,  fell  upon  the  barbarians, 
with  the  fire,  like  boiling  oil.  Although  inundated, 
they  cried  loudly  for  water,  and  at  every  attempt  made 
to  extinguish  the  fire  they  received  great  injuries.  In 
their  despair  they  cast  themselves  into  the  midst  of  the 
Eomans,  where  alone  the  water  was  capable  of  refresh- 
ing them,  and  the  Emperor  exercised  the  greatest  clem- 
ency towards  them. 

In  memory  of  this  battle,  Marcus  was  proclaimed 
Emperor  for  the  seventh  time.  He  issued  commands, 
that  the  Melitani  Legion  should  be  called  from  that 
time  forward  the  "Legio  Fulminatrix,"  or  "Thundering 
Legion ; "  and  not  contented  with  this,  he  imparted  the 
wonderful  event  to  the  Senate,  and  published  an  edict 
whereby  he  put  a  stop  to  the  persecutions  of  the  Chris- 
tians. The  edict,  the  force  of  which  lasted  but  a  short 
time,  is  still  extant,  and  it  gives  us  the  title  of  the  then 
Lord  of  the  world :  — 

Imperator  Caesar,  Marcus  Aurelius,  Antoninus,  Au- 
gustus Parthicus,  Germanicus,  Sermaticus,  Pontifix, 
Maximus,  Tribunitiae  Potestatis. 

As  a  memorial  of  this  remarkable  battle,  the  Roman 
Senate  had  a  colossal  pillar  erected,  on  which  the  event 
was  depicted  in  bas-relief.  On  the  top  was  Jupiter, 
with  a  long  beard  and  extended  arms,  bearing  the  thun- 
der-bolt in  his  hands.  A  little  lower  down  were  the 
two  armies,  one  in  disorder,  the  other  pressing  forward, 
sword  in  hand.  The  pillar  is  preserved  to  the  present 
day,  and  is  one  of  the  greatest  ornaments  of  Rome.  It 


OF   THE   MARCOMANNI.  193 

stands  on  the  Piazza  Colonna,  in  the  northern  part  of 
the  city,  and  consists  of  28  blocks  of  marble,  which  ex- 
tend to  a  height  of  135  feet.     It  was  restored  in  the 
time  of  Sixtus  the  Fifth,  and  a  statue  of  St.  Paul  sub- 
stituted fbr  that  of  Jupiter.      Peace  being  concluded 
with  the  people  of  the  Danube,  the  attention  of  the  Em- 
peror was  drawn  to  the  province  of  Syria,  where  the 
General  Avidius  Cassius  had  usurped  the  imperial  pur- 
ple.    He  set  out  immediately  Tor  the  East,  but  Cassius 
had  already  been  murdered  by  his  soldiers.   He  pacified 
the  provinces,  and  hastened  back  through  Greece  to- 
wards Borne,  there  to  celebrate  a  glorious  triumph.     In 
the  midst  of  such  a  variety  of  affairs,  and  during  the 
most  fatiguing  journeys,  he  wrote  "Meditations  on  Self," 
in  twelve  books,  which  was  a  rich  treasure,  containing 
the  moral  maxims  of  life,  and  which  won  him  the  renown 
of  being  the  most  famous  of  the  sages  of  antiquity.     In 
the  first  book,  he  related  how  he  learned  to  conquer  his 
passions,  and  particularly  anger,  from  his  parents,  friends, 
and  teachers, — and  how  he  labored  to  attain  each  virtue. 
He  kept  in  view,  in  a  most  attractive  manner,  temper- 
ance, and  the  reigning  virtues  of  Antoninus  Pius,  whose 
adopted  son  he  was.     He  then  offers  a  rich  collection  of 
the   most  beautiful   moral   instruction,  such  as  never 
emanated  from  the  pen  of  a  heathen.     "Virtue,"  said 
he,  "  constitutes  the  fame,  the  perfection,  and  the  happi- 
ness of  a  nation.    Nothing  is  more  dignified  than  the 
divinity  dwelling  within  us.     As  soon  as  nature  has  be- 
come master  of  the  passions,  and  knows  all  that  could 
excite  them,  she  has,  according  to  the  words  of  Socrates, 
torn  herself  from  that  which  chains  her  to  sensuality, 
17  N 


194     CONQUEST   OF    THE   MARCOMANNI. 

and  charmed,  she  submits  herself  to  the  gods,  and  has 
for  mankind  a  tender  solicitude."     He  defines  as  the 
original  destiny  of  the  soul,  knowledge  and  love  of 
God,  -to  have  but  one  will  with  God  through  resignation, 
and  a  constant  practice  of  virtue.     Man  must  do  what 
is  his  to  do,  just  as  the  fig-tree  or  the  bees  perform  that 
for  which  they  were  destined.     A  virtuous  man  never 
troubles  himself  about  what  people  say  of  him,  think 
of  him,  or  do  against  him,  but  he  is  contented  when  hi? 
actions  are  upright,  and  accomplishes  with  love  what 
his  vocation  requires  of  him.     Free  from  all  excitement^ 
he  has  no  other  will  than  the  law  of  God.     What  a 
falsehood  it  is  to  say,  "  I  will  act  openly ! "     What  do 
you  mean  by  that,  my  friend  ?     One  must  read  in  your 
eyes  what  rests  in  your  soul,  just  as  a  lover  reads  in  the 
eyes  of  his  bride  what  is  passing  in  her  heart.     A  hypo- 
critical openness  or  candor  is  a  concealed  dagger.     One 
can  be  a  pious  man,  and  yet  be  unknown  to  all.     Never 
lose  sight  of  this  principle,  that  the  happiness  of  life 
consists  in  a  little.     Make  use  of  the  short  time  you 
have.     Yet  a  little  while,  and  the  time  that  is  given  you 
to   do   good   will  have  passed  away.      Perform   each 
action  as  if  you  were  to  die  at  the  same  moment.     It 
sits  badly  on  a  wise  man  to  express  a  talkative  contempt 
for  death. 

Through  the  entire  collection  of  his  moral  maxims, 
Marcus  Aurelius  showed  that  he  was  far  nearer  to  Chris- 
tianity than  he  himself  imagined. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

LYDIA'S   DEPARTURE. 

the  first  days  of  May,  a  season  in 
which  the  southern  clime  pours  forth  its 
blessings,  the  Greeks  begin,  according  to  the 
ancient  heathen  custom,  to  prepare  for  their 
processions  in  honor  of  their  gods  on  all 
the  cross-ways,  to  petition  for  a  plentiful 
harvest. 

Wherever  a  statue  was  to  be  found,  either  in  the 
cross-streets  or  in  the  fields,  there  the  people  assembled 
in  holiday  attire,  to  make  their  offerings.  This  feast 
was  called  the  Compitalien,  because  it  was  held  in  the 
cross-ways  (in  Compitis).  Metella  and  Lydia,  who  had 
just  returned  from  Eleusis,  were  standing  at  a  window, 
looking  down  upon  the  altars  of  offerings  and  on  the 
Pagan  processions.  Before  the  portico  of  the  house,  a 
servant  is  seen  arranging  luggage  for  a  journey;  on  the 
opposite  side  of  the  olive-groves,  in  the  distant  harbor, 
flutter  the  pennant  and  flags  of  a  large  merchant-vessel, 
which  is  preparing  to  set  sail  in  the  evening,  and  is  the 
one  destined  to  carry  Lydia  to  Eome  in  search  of  her 

mother. 

(195) 


196  LYDIA'S   DEPARTURE. 

"Good  child,"  said  Metella,  "I  was  lately  at  the  ceme- 
tery of  Kerameikos  visiting  ray  father's  grave,  and  my 
thoughts  turned  on  the  changes  and  trials  of  my  event- 
ful life.  I  reflected  on  the  melancholy  hours  that  the 
future  promised  me,  and  could  have  wished  to  lame  the 
wings  of  time,  to  postpone  this  our  separation  for  a  little 
longer.  While  thus  thinking  and  wishing,  my  eye  fell 
upon  the  trunk  of  a  pine-tree,  on  the  bark  of  which  I 
perceived  something  inscribed.  On  a  closer  inspection, 
I  discovered  it  to  be  the  initials  of  my  beloved  son's 
name,  and  from  each  letter  the  gum  of  the  tree  fell  down 
in  golden  tears.  This  made  me  feel  your  departure 
doubly  heavy.  Every  one  whom  I  prize  leaves  me: 
Father,  husband,  son,  and  friend;  and  I  hope  also  to 
depart  soon,  and  then  at  last  I  shall  find  a  resting-place. 
But  one  thought  comforts  me, — that  perhaps  a  great 
joy  awaits  you,  when  you  again  meet  your  mother.  Oh 
tell  her  that  I  was  often  very  unkind  to  you,  that  I 
often  grieved  you  and  not  seldom  treated  you  badly. 
But  you  must  not  refuse  me  two  requests :  they  are  the 
most  earnest  I  have  ever  made.  The  first  is,  that  you 
accept  the  means  for  your  journey.  The  distance  is 
great,  and  the  time  of  your  sojourn  in  Rome  very  un- 
certain. I  have  placed  amongst  your  effects  a  sum  of 
money,  sufficient,  not  only  for  yourself,  but  to  purchase 
your  mother's  freedom ;  which,  when  you  have  pur- 
chased, then,  my  beloved  child,  —  and  this  is  my  second 
petition, — return  with  her  to  Athens,  and  you  shall 
spend  happy  days  with  me. — I  know,"  continued  Me- 
tella, "  that  you  have  a  longing  to  return  to  your  native 
land,  but  for  a  widow  who  has  much  sorrow,  Christian 


LYDIA'S   DEPARTURE.  197 

friendship  will  not  hesitate  to  deny  itself  a  satisfaction 
in  the  cause  of  charity." 

Lydia  took  the  hands  of  her  mistress  reverently 
within  her  own,  and  lifting  her  eyes  to  heaven,  sobbed 
forth,  "  May  God  bless,  you  according  to  the  goodness 
of  your  noble  heart !  Nothing  but  the  duty  I  owe  to 
my  beloved  mother  could  sanction  this  separation,  and 
nothing  but  death,  dear  mistress,  shall  prevent  our  re- 
turn." At  this  moment,  Duranus  struck  the  hour,  and 
Metella  and  Lydia  retired  to  the  oratory,  to  pass  the  last 
moments  together  in  prayer. 

In  the  Lararium  the  lamp  burned,  as  in  former  years, 
-  but  the  protecting  house-gods  had  disappeared,  and 
their  place  was  occupied  by  the  true  and  living  God, 
Jesus  Christ,  under  the  species  of  bread.  An  emble- 
matic picture  concealed  the  tabernacle,  wherein  reposed 
the  treasure  of  the  faithful,  for  it  was  allowed  to  the 
early  Christians  to  keep  in  their  own  homes  this 
heavenly  manna,  particularly  in  troubled  times,  and 
to  commune  themselves.  Metella  advanced  reveren- 
tially towards  the  tabernacle,  opened  it,  and  drew  aside 
the  curtain  that  concealed  the  Holy  of  Holies.  From 
the  tabernacle  shone  a  silver  dove,  whose  wings  were 
raised  as  if  in  flight,  and  the"  breast  was  richly  set  with 
sparkling  diamonds.  Within  this  was  the  holy  Eucha- 
rist, and  near  it  was  lying  a  reliquary  and  chain  of 
gold ;  the  centre  of  the  case  was  set  with  one  magnifi- 
cent, large  pearl.  "In  this  little  reliquary,"  said  Metella, 
"I  have  enclosed  a  portion  of  the  sacred  bread.  May 
our  God  accompany  you  on  the  waves,  and  protect  you 

from  the  scofis  of  the  heathens ! "     At  these  words,  she 
17* 


198  LYDIA'S   DEPARTURE. 

placed  the  chain  round  Lydia's  neck,  and  concealed  the 
case  in  the  bosom  of  her  dress. 

.Lydia  observed  the  pearl,  and  drawing  forth  the  reli- 
quary again,  kissed  it  and  said  to  her  mistress,  "  It  is  a 
thought  full  of  meaning,  that  you  to  the  gold  which 
encloses  the  great  pearl  of  divine  love,  have  added,  on 
the  exterior,  a  pearl,  as  a  type  of  the  interior.  But, 
dearest  mistress,  it  is  the  most  costly  of  all  your  jewels, 
and  perhaps  a  remembrance  from  your  ancestors; — may 
I  return  it  ?  " 

"  Do  so,"  replied  Metella,  —  "  in  Rome,  if  the  price  of 
thy  mother's  freedom  will  not  be  so  great  as  I  expect ; 
but  thou  hast  merited  infinitely  more,  as  you  have  led 
me  to  that  field  in  which  I  discovered  the  great  pearl 
of  our  holy  faith. — I  was  as  a  beaten  way,"  continued 
she,  sighing,  "  till  your  prayers  and  tears  loosened  the 
soil,  and  placed  within  its  bosom  the  seeds  of  faith.  I 
was  a  cast-off  piece  of  rough  marble,  in  which  a  noble 
image  slumbered,  but  which  could  only  be  brought  1j0 
light  by  a  good  chisel.  Dearest  child,  thou  art  that 
chisel,  never  to  be  forgotten.  The  artist  that  guided  it 
is  the  Creator  of  the  world,  who  formed  the  body  of 
Eve,  and  placed  it  at  the  head  of  the  creation.  Blow 
after  blow  fell  upon  thee,  thou  patient  instrument,  and 
upon  me,  the  hard  unformed  stuff.  Still,  the  longer  our 
martyrdom  lasts,  the  nearer  we  are  to  its  completion. 
Now  the  work  is  finished,  therefore  the  chisel  is  to  be 
put  back  to  enjoy  its  well-merited  rest." 

After  a  most  affectionate  embrace,  and  with  heart-felt 
thanks,  Lydia  tore  herself  from  the  arms  of  her  bene- 
factress. She  departed  from  Athens,  after  having  passed 


LYDIA'S    DEPARTURE.  199 

in  it  ten  eventful  years.  Metella  ascended  the  pergula 
to  have  a  last  look  at  the  dear  traveller.  The  sun  sink- 
ing in  the  west,  cast  a  rich  glow  on  the  distant  Piraeus ; 
a  soft  evening  breeze  rose,  and  gently  swelled  the  sails 
of  the  vessel. 

Lydia  was  accompanied  to  the  harbor  by  several  of 
the  domestics,  all  of  whom  loved  her  tenderly ;  and  close 
to  her  side  was  the  faithful  Ophne,  whose  loquacity 
never  ceased  till  they  reached  the  harbor,  nor  would  it 
then,  had  not  the  noise  and  confusion  attracted  her  atten- 
tion. The  sailors  were  putting  all  in  order :  some  were 
hauling  in  the  ropes  and  unfurling  sufficient  sail ;  while 
one,  with  more  authority  than  the  rest,  calls  those  to 
order  who  have  the  care  of  stowing  in  the  luggage,  to 
keep  a  sharp  look-out  for  goods  still  left  on  the  landing- 
place.  A  tight  little  fellow,  although  one  of  the  crew, 
slips  from  the  labor  and  confusion  to  a  distant  part  of 
the  ship,  to  hold  converse  with  a  friend  on  the  opposite 
side  of  the  water,  —  which  seemed  no  easy  task,  as  their 
questions  and  answers  were  almost  drowned  by  the  noisy 
waves  and  the  freshening  breeze.  The  hour  for  depar- 
ture at  length  arrives,  and  the  sailors  are  bustling  to 
and  fro,  shouting  with  all  their  might,  to  tighten  up  and 
clear  decks.  The  farewells  were  of  a  varied  description. 
A  mother  could  be  seen  parting  with  her  only  son,  and 
in  floods  of  tears,  invoking  for  him  the  protection  of  the 
gods.  Husbands  taking  leave  of  their  wives  and  fami- 
lies, to  seek  in  a  foreign  land  a  support  for  them,  which 
was  denied  at  home.  Men  were  amongst  the  number, 
who  by  their  countenances  clearly  showed  that  loss  and 
gain  were  the  sum-total  of  their  existence  here.  They 


200  LYDIA'S    DEPARTURE. 

were  alone,  for  when  the  heart  is  absorbed  in  the  goods 
of  this  life,  it  closes  itself  against  the  tender  ties  of  family 
and  friends.  Wealth  is  their  god,  and  every  sacrifice  is 
made  to  the  deity  of  their  sordid  minds. 

The  principal  passengers  consisted  of  rich  merchants, 
trading  between  Greece,  Borne,  and  Italy.  Jews  also, 
with  their  merchandise,  and  invalid  Greeks,  who  then, 
as  now,  sought  the  restoration  of  their  health  in  the 
balmy  climate  of  Malta.  Lydia  joined  herself  to  some 
Christian  families  who  were  bound  for  Eome.  The 
decks  being  cleared,  the  trumpet  blew  the  signal  for  de- 
parture, and  Lydia  waved  her  last  adieu  to  her  friends 
on  shore. 

"A  happy  journey !"  screamed  out  little  Ophne,  "and 
a  quick  return;"  and  she  dried  up  her  falling  tears,  and 
returned  pensively  to  the  palace,  regretting  the  loss  of 
her  dear  friend.  The  second  signal  sounded,  and,  loosed 
from  its  moorings,  the  vessel  floated  on  with  swelling 
sail.  They  anchored  at  Delos.  This  island  of  the 
Grecian  Archipelago,  and  so  famous  in  ancient  history, 
is  said  to  have  been  at  one  time  a  floating  island.  Being 
the  birthplace  of  Apollo  and  Diana,  it  was  always  held 
sacred  on  that  account  by  the  Pagans,  and  used  as  an 
asylum  for  all  living  creatures.  In  the  distance  was 
lovely  Syra,  rising  above  the  blue  waters  like  a  citadel 
on  a  rock.  This  friendly  and  well-known  island,  famous 
in  ancient  times  for  its  commerce,  has  even  in  our  own 
days  become  a  place  of  staple  commodities.  From  Delos 
the  ship  sailed  by  the  most  southern  point  of  the  Morea, 
—  so  called  from  "  Morus,"  a  mulberry  -  tree,  which 
abounds  in  that  part  of  Greece,  and  is  appropriated  to 


LTDIA'S    DEPARTURE.  201 

the  support  of  the  silkworm.  They  then  struck  out  on 
the  high  seas  in  the  direction  of  the  distantly  situated 
Malta. 

During  the  last  months,  the  crowd  of  circumstances  in 
Lydia's  life  had  so  oppressed  her,  that  she  was  glad  to 
be  alone  and  unobserved,  that  she  might  recall  to  her 
mind  the  events  that  had  so  quickly  followed  in  succes- 
sion. She  would  sit  for  hours  on  the  deck,  apparently 
watching  the  foaming  waters,  but  her  mind  was  far  dis- 
tant, and  busily  occupied  taking  a  retrospective  view  of 
the  chequered  scenes  of  her  own  eventful  life.  How 
much  richer  was  she  now  in  experience,  after  having 
passed  through  such  a  school  of  affliction !  At  the  time 
she  was  captive  in  Smyrna,  every  pulse  throbbed  for 
martyrdom.  Now  experience  taught  her,  that  there  was 
a  still  greater  martyrdom  than  that  of  the  sword  or  fire ; 
and  that  to  a  certain  extent,  her  life  as  a  slave  had  been 
nothing  but  a  continued  one,  which  had  ended  in  the 
conquest  of  the  Faith.  How  unmistakable  did  the  lov- 
ing dispensations  of  Providence  present  themselves  be- 
fore her  mind!  She  had  been  appointed  as  an  humble 
instrument  towards  the  conversion  of  one  of  the  most 
illustrious  women  of  Athens.  God  had  prepared  this 
soul  to  embrace  Christianity  by  the  death  of  her  husband 
and  son, — trials  over  which  her  wealth  had  no  control; 
but  these  drew  her  to  the  possession  of  that  which 
neither  temporal  prosperity  nor  the  gifts  of  the  mind 
could  purchase  for  her — the  one  Faith.  The  human 
heart  has  a  necessity  to  communicate  with  those  after 
death  whom  it  loved  in  life,  and  this  communication  is 
only  possible  when  the  belief  is  in  the  immortality  of 


202  LYDIA'S    DEPARTURE. 

the  soul.  This  was  the  first  motive  that  attracted  Me- 
tella  towards  conversion.  But  what  Christianity  was, 
and  in  what  manner  it  was  to  be  practised  in  order  to 
prepare  man  for  a  supernatural  life,  she  learned  from  her 
slave.  At  length,  God  showed  her  the  truth  of  His  re- 
vealed Eeligion,  by  His  holy  servants,  and  confirmed  the 
doctrine  of  the  same  by  the  wonderful  interference  of 
His  own  divine  power. 

If  a  voyage  be  long,  and  for  the  greater  part  monoto- 
nous, how  can  a  meditative  mind  fail  for  a  subject,  when 
it  beholds,  in  the  immeasurable  waters  of  the  deep,  the 
beauties  of  nature  in  their  wildest  form.  The  sea  itself 
gives  ample  scope  for  contemplation.  Is  it  not  in  its 
calm,  as  well  as  in  its  loud  anger,  in  its  immeasurable 
extent,  as  well  as  in  its  unfathomable  depths,  a  type  of 
the  Divinity  ?  And  is  not  the  vessel  that  sails  on  the 
bosom  of  the  waves,  between  the  blue  firmament  and 
the  yawning,  unknown  abyss,  a  figure  of  man  who  wan- 
ders through  life  between  the  haven  of  grace  and  the 
depth  of  depravity? 

When  the  great  luminary  of  the  day  sinks  in  the 
west,  and  leaving  to  the  wide  expanse  of  heaven  his 
reflective  rays,  almost  as  varied  in  color  as  the  rainbow, 
does  it  not  give  the  soul  a  longing  desire  to  wing  its 
flight  above  and  bask  in  the  eternal  sunshine  of  its 
Creator ! 

What  loving  soul  that  has  ever  gazed  on  the  starry 
heavens  when  on  the  sea,  can  say  that  he  was  ever  more 
deeply  impressed  with  the  majesty  of  God,  and  his  own 
nothingness,  than  at  such  a  moment  ?  He  is  as  a  mite 
on  the  face  of  the  waters,  wondering  at  the  immensity 


LYDIA'S   DEPARTURE.  203 

of  its  Creator.  It  seems  as  though  the  soul  would  burst 
its  earthly  bondage,  soar  on  high,  and  mingle  with  the 
starry  host.  That  milky  way,  where  the  stars  roll  as  in 
a  cloud  of  vapor,  draws  our  mind  along,  higher  and 
higher,  until  it  arrives  at  the  palace  of  the  Almighty. 
It  is  only  a  heart  full  of  faith  that  can  appreciate  all 
this.  Just  as  in  the  darkness  of  night  a  million  of 
worlds  appear  to  man,  which  by  the  dazzling  light  of 
day  are  to  Him  invisible,  so  the  dispensations  of  the 
power  and  wisdom  of  God  disclose  themselves  to  the 
single  eye  of  the  believer  in  the  hidden  darkness  of  life 
— a  government  of  which  the  enlightened  minds  of  the 
wise  ones  of  the  world  have  not  the  slightest  con- 
ception. 

The  passengers  could  as  yet  see  nothing  of  lovely 
Malta,  save  the  tops  of  the  sloping  hills  that  were  just 
appearing  above  the  horizon.  As  they  approached 
nearer,  its  steep  and  rugged  coast  excited  no  small  de- 
gree of  alarm  among  the  passengers.  On  those  rocks, 
thought  Lydia,  the  vessel  that  was  conveying  the  great 
St.  Paul  as  prisoner  to  Eome,  was  shattered  by  a  storm, 
leaving  its  crew,  pensioners  on  the  bounty  and  hospi- 
tality of  its  benevolent  inhabitants,  who  first  looked 
upon  the  great  Apostle  as  a  murderer,  on  seeing  a  viper 
cling  to  his  arm,  but  on  beholding  him  cast  the  reptile 
from  him,  into  the  fire,  without  his  having  received  any 
injury,  they  looked  upon  him  as  a  god.  While  the 
vessel  anchored,  to  land  the  passengers  destined  for  the 
island,  Lydia  felt  a  strong  desire  to  place  her  foot  upon 
a  soil  hallowed  by  the  presence  and  miracles  of  such  an 
illustrious  convert;  but  as  she  could  not  gratify  this 


204  LYDIA'  S   DEPARTURE. 

laudable  desire,  she  implored  the  protection  of  the  saint 
for  the  remainder  of  the  journey  to  that  renowned  city, 
where  he  was  twice  imprisoned,  and  sealed  his  labors 
by  his  martyrdom.  As  the  vessel  receded  from  the 
shore,  Lydia  gazed  on  the  watery  element  that  lay  be- 
fore her, — and  never  did  the  providence  of  God  appear 
to  her  greater  than  at  that  moment,  when  she  reflected 
that  a  number  of  human  beings  were  assembled  to- 
gether in  a  fragile  vessel,  moving  upon  the  face  of  the 
unfathomable  waters,  with  nothing  but  a  few  planks 
between  them  and  eternity.  Land  had  again  entirely 
disappeared,  and  nothing  could  be  seen  but  the  blue 
vault  of  heaven,  closed  in  on  every  side  of  the  horizon 
by  the  expansive  waters.  A  few  birds  of  passage  were 
the  only  living  creatures  to  be  met  with, — untiring 
travellers !  they  cut  through  the  air  and  seek  but  a  mo- 
ment's rest,  on  either  the  masts  of  the  vessel  or  a  water- 
plant.  Unwearied  as  these  birds,  does  Time  also  fly, 
and  when  we  think  he  lingers  with  us,  we  find  ourselves 
carried  away  by  him  much  quicker. 

In  Syracuse,  the  passengers  received  a  more  exact 
account  of  the  glorious  conquest  by  the  Emperor,  and 
the  soldiers  returning  home  to  Sicily,  lauded  Marcus  for 
his  extraordinary  generosity  in  bestowing  presents  on 
the  troops.  Between  hope  and  fear,  the  vessel  anchored 
off  the  eastern  coast  of  Sicily,  where,  not  far  distant, 
rose  in  gigantic  heights  the  imposing  ^Etna,  which  sent 
forth,  in  deep  draughts,  black  clouds  of  smoke  in  grace- 
ful curls,  darkening  the  blue  ether.  Pretty  little  barks, 
with  their  dazzling  sails,  were  to  be  seen  in  numbers 
floating  by,  and  stopping  at  the  several  places  of  their 


L  YD  I A'  8   DEPARTURE.  205 

destination  along  the  shore.  Dolphins  bounded  over 
the  surface  of  the  waters  touching  the  sides  of  the  vessel 
in  their  playful  gambols.  Higher  up,  the  anchor  was 
dropped  at  the  famous  city  of  Catania,  so  beautifully 
situated  at  the  foot  of  Mount  JStna,  and  which  to  this 
day  ranks  as  one  of  the  elegant  cities  of  Europe,  though  it 
has  frequently  suffered  from  the  volcanic  eruptions  of  its 
majestic  neighbor.  Having  landed  the  passengers  bound 
for  that  city,  they  steered  their  course  to  the  Straits, 
that  passage  so  much  dreaded  by  the  ancients,  but 
through  which  they  passed  in  safety;  and  leaving  a 
cluster  of  islands  to  the  west,  they  found  themselves 
again  on  the  broad  waters,  making  rapid  sail  for  the 
coast  of  Italy.  They  passed  by  the  matchless  bay  of 
Naples,  with  its  city  partly  seated  on  the  declivity  of  a 
hill,  and  its  broad  shores  studded  with  beauteous  villas 
and  lovely  gardens, — presenting  an  unrivalled  assem- 
blage of  the  picturesque  and  beautiful,  and  bearing  a 
strong  contrast  to  the  rugged  Vesuvius  in  the  back- 
ground. 

Few  voyages  could  present  mor*e  interesting  variety 
than  the  one  our  travellers  had  just  completed,  and  yet 
it  was  with  joy  that  they  saw  themselves  nearing  their 
destination. 

Those  for  Rome  were  landed  at  Ostia,  a  distance  from 
Rome  of  fourteen  miles,  and  Lydia  for  the  first  time  set 
foot  on  Italian  soil.  After  having  passed  a  day  at  Ostia, 
she  proceeded  to  Rome  by  land.  The  nearer  she  ap- 
proached its  walls,  the  more  intense  became  her  feelings, 
and  alternate  hope  and  fear  agitated  her  breast.  With 
a  holy  awe  she  approached  that  city,  which  was  even 
18 


206  LTDIA'S    DEPARTURE. 

then  the  centre  of  the  Christian  world.  And  who  could 
not  feel  a  more  than  ordinary  interest  on  finding  him- 
self in  the  city  of  the  Caesars  ?  Rome,  as  a  late  writer 
of  this  "Eternal  City"  expresses  himself  in  one  of  his 
works,  is  the  mysterious  link  between  two  worlds,  wherein 
is  represented  the  history  of  man  under  the  influence 
of  Paganism  and  of  Christianity;  and  as  on  earth  all 
rivers  flow  towards  the  ocean,  so  run  in  the  divine,  as  in 
the  human  order,  all  events  of  the  ancient,  as  well  as 
of  the  modern  history,  out  of  one  city, — and  this  city 
is  Eome.  Borne  can  therefore  say  of  itself,  "I  am  the 
world!" 


CHAPTER    XIX. 

THE    TRIUMPHAL   PROCESSION. 

A.  D.  176. 

HEN  Lydia  landed  in  Italy,  she  heard  that 
the  Emperor,  who  had  already  returned 
from  the  campaign,  had,  after  a  short  stay, 
departed  again,  accompanied  by  his  wife, 
Faustina,  on  a  visit  to  the  East ;  but  was 
expected  back  to  Eome  in  a  few  days. 
On  his  arrival  he  was  to  celebrate  his 
conquest  over  the  barbarians.  The  feast  promised  to 
be  one  of  extraordinary  magnificence :  first,  because  he 
had  been  so  little  in  Eome  for  the  last  eight  years ;  and 
secondly,  because,  on  his  recent  journey  to  the  East,  he 
had  suffered  a  misfortune  in  the  sudden  death  of  his 
wife  Faustina,  who  met  her  fate  at  the  foot  of  the  Tau- 
rus mountains.  The  sympathy  of  Rome  upon  the  death 
of  this  woman,  renowned  for  wickedness,  was  in  the  ex- 
terior only,  for  in  private  they  congratulated  themselves 
upon  the  happy  event. 

Marcus  Aurelius  gave  himself  up  to  intense  grief, 
and  had  a  temple  built  in  her  honor. 

(207) 


208          THE    TRIUMPHAL    PROCESSION. 

The  Emperor  was  waited  for  by  the  Consuls  and 
Praetors  in  Brundusium,  one  of  the  most  renowned 
seaports  of  Calabria. 

Thus  Eome,  "City  of  the  World,"  expected  with 
impatience  and  anxiety,  from  one  day  to  another,  the 
arrival  of  its  Emperor. 

A  violent  storm  was  the  cause  of  the  delay,  which,  as 
the  historians  relate,  placed  the  vessels  in  the  most  im- 
minent danger.  Commodus,  the  Emperor's  son,  was  at 
that  time  sixteen  years  old,  and  for  his  age  remarkably 
tall  and  robust.  He  and  his  eldest  sister  Lucilla,  the 
young  widow  of  Yerus,  went  to  meet  their  father,  with 
a  numerous  retinue,  and  congratulated  him  at  Prasmeste. 
In  this  very  place  he  invested  his. son  with  the  dignity 
of  the  Tribuneship,  and  commanded  that  he  should  stand 
beside  him  on  the  golden  chariot  during  the  triumphal 
procession. 

Upon  the  Campus  Yaticanus  in  Eome,  where  now 
stands  the  Pope's  Palace,  the  procession  was  arranged. 
All  the  Senators  had  assembled  there  to  receive  the 
Emperor.  Behind  them  were  numerous  animals  for 
sacrifice, — white  bulls,  with  gilt  horns.  The  spoils  of 
war  were  dragged  along;  then  came  the •  inscriptions, 
and  figurative  representations  of  the  generals  and  the 
conquered  Germans.  Then  followed  the  unhappy  cap- 
tives, who  were  brought  to  Rome  when  the  campaign 
had  terminated.  "Have  you  already  heard,"  was  the 
saying,  "that  it  is  actually  true,  what  Tacitus  relates, 
that  Helusians  and  Oxioners  have  heads  and  faces  of 
men,  but  that  the  remainder  of  the  body  is  a  wild  ani- 
mal ?  Come  let  us  see  them ! " 


THE    TRIUMPHAL    PROCESSION.         209 

Bands  of  musicians  were  filling  up  the  time  with  their 
drums  and  fifes,  and  changing  alternately  with  the  sing- 
ers. The  Lictors  then  arrived  in  their  purple  tunics, 
and  their  fasces  were  entwined  with  laurels ;  they  took 
their  places  immediately  behind  the  captives.  A  great 
corflpany  of  jesters  filled  up  the  rear,  and  immediately 
before  the  triumphal  chariot,  which  was  still  unoccupied, 
stood  rows  of  priests  attired  in  all  their  festive  solemnity, 
and  carrying  the  insignia  of  their  gods,  the  vessels  for 
sacrifice  and  for  incense.  Masses  of  people  from  the 
city  and  from  the  country,  forced  themselves  into  all 
the  elevated  positions  where  could  be  had  a  clear  view. 
The  field  of  Mars,  as  well  as  the  Vatican  Hills  on  the 
other  side  of  the  Portus  Triumphalis,  — then  the  hill  of 
Marius, — the  bridges  and  all  the  surrounding  heights, 
were  crowded  with  spectators.  The  public  places  where 
the  procession  touched  at,  and  the  windows  of  the 
houses  in  those  streets  through  which  it  passed,  were 
filled  with  people  of  all  ranks. 

The  musicians  commenced  anew,  when  a  hollow  sound, 
that  aroused  attention,  passed  through  the  dense  crowd, 
and  shouts  reached  them  from  the  distance  announcing 
the  arrival  of  the  conqueror. 

" lo  Triumphef  triumphef"  cried  out  the  people. 

"  Vita  et  victoria  magno  Imperatorif" — Life  and  victory 
to  the  great  Emperor ! 

The  triumphal  car  was  drawn  by  richly  caparisoned 
elephants.  Marcus  Aurelius  wore  a  purple  mantle  bor- 
dered with  gold,  and  a  toga  embroidered  with  stars.  He 
held  in  the  left  hand  an  ivory  sceptre  headed  with  the 
Roman  eagle,  and  in  the  right,  a  palm-branch.  The 
18*  0 


210          THE    TRIUMPHAL    PROCESSION. 

crown  that  encircled  his  brow  was  of  gold  and  precious 
stones,  and  made  so  as  to  represent  laurel-leaves.  Corn- 
modus  was  dressed  precisely  similar. 

A  herald  went  on  before,  comma'nding  silence ;  and 
behind  him  were  boys  who  sung  the  song  of  triumph, 
and  men  repeated  each  time  the  last  words  of  the 
strophe.  The  hymn  lauded  the  bravery,  the  paternal 
care,  and  the  immortality  of  their  divine  ruler. 

The  car  had  not  yet  reached  the  triumphal  arch,  when 
young  Commodus  was  seen  looking  several  times  up  at 
the  heights  of  the  newly  built  Moles  Adriani,  now 
called  Angel's  Mount,  and  laughingly  drew  his  father's 
attention  to  a  sight  that  presented  itself  there.  It  was 
Brutus  Praesais  with  his  daughter  Crispina,  who  occu- 
pied magnificent  seats  under  the  imperial  tents.  The 
daughter,  who  was  about  thirteen  years  old,  uttered  a 
cry  of  joy  as  the  procession  approached,  and  waved  a 
flag  unceasingly,  until  she  drew  upon  her  the  eyes  of 
Commodus.  But  when  she  saw  his  face  painted  with 
vermilion,*  she  burst  into  loud  laughter,  and  ran  to 
conceal  herself  behind  her  father.  That  very  Crispina 
was  Rome's  future  Empress,  and  was  married  a  short 
time  after  to  Commodus.  How  little  did  she  suspect  at 
the  time,  what  her  fate  would  be  !  f 

The  more  the  Emperor  and  his  son  enjoyed  the  scene, 
the  more  did  the  African,  who  stood  behind  the  Caesars, 
fulfil  his  duty.  According  to  the  ancient  custom,  a 
slave,  who  held  in  his  hand  a  golden  crown,  and  who 

*  The  face  of  the  conqueror  was  painted  with  vermilion,  like  the  statue  of 
Jupiter  *n  feast-days.     Plin.  xxxiii. 

f  Crispina  was  later  banished  to  the  Island  of  Capri,  and  there  murdered. 


THE    TRIUMPHAL    PROCESSION.         211 

stood  behind  the  car,  had  to  call  out  frequently  during 
the  procession,  "  Eemember  that  thou  art  mortal." 

As  the  African  crown-bearer  repeated  these  words 
several  times  in  the  ear  of  Commodus,  he  pushed  him 
back  ir  his  rough  manner,  with  the  words,  "I  am  no 
common  mortal." 

The  procession  had  turned  round  the  Via  Triumpha- 
lis,  where  Adrian's  Mausoleum  could  no  longer  be  seen. 
But  tears  so  bitter  as  those  that  fell  from  the  captives, 
the  soil  of  Eome  had  seldom  drunk.  That  the  pain  and 
sacrifice  of  a  tedious  war  should  end  for  them  in  such 
disgrace !  The  captives  walked  along,  carrying  on  their 
arms  heavy  chains,  and  derided  and  mocked  by  the 
most  flighty  and  contemptible  men  in  the  world.  Their 
dark  blue  eyes,  shaded  with  bushy  eyebrows,  were  cast 
to  the  earth,  and  only  raised  to  throw  an  expression  of 
the  deepest  hatred  on  their  deriders.  Their  auburn  hair 
flowed  proudly  down  their  muscular  backs  in  natural 
curls.  Their  national  costume,  a  simple  woollen  mantle, 
or  the  skin  of  a  beast  fastened  on  the  breast  with  a 
buckle  or  strong  clasp,  increased  their  herculean  ap- 
pearance. Young  Commodus  almost  envied  them,  as 
he  liked  so  much  to  be  compared  with  Hercules.* 
Some  of  the  barbarian  generals  and  princes  had  on  a 
richer  costume,  and  by  their  mien,  and  every  motion  of 
their  body,  showed  the  proud  national  feeling  that  per- 
vaded their  whole  frame.  Women  and  children  were 
also  amongst  the  captives.  The  women  wore  the  same 

*  When  Emperor,  Commodus  called  himself  the  "  Roman  Hercules,"  ran 
about  at  night  dressed  in  the  skin  of  a  lion,  and  struck  all  those  he  met, 
with  a  club. 


212         THE    TRIUMPHAL   PROCESSION. 

costume  as  the  men,  except  that  some  of  them  were 
clothed  in  white  linen,  which  here  and  there  was  col- 
ored fancifully  with  red.  Their  garments  closed  tightly 
round  their  shoulders,  leaving  part  of  their  arms  un- 
covered.* 

The  cries  of  the  children  were  most  touching,  and  they 
were  clinging  closely  to  their  mothers  and  calling  for 
help,  thereby  redoubling  the  pain  of  their  parents.  To 
increase  the  hatred  of  their  captives,  there  was  a  panto- 
mimist,  who  in  the  midst  of  leapers  and  jesters,  orna- 
mented with  golden  chains  and  manacles,  mimicked  all 
the  gestures  of  the  barbarians; — the  grinding  of  their 
teeth,  the  thrusting  with  their  clenched  fists,  and  the 
whining  of  the  children.  He  runs  first  before,  and  then 
behind,  depending  upon  the  protection  of  the  Lictors. 
On  the  bridge  crossing  the  Tiber,  one  of  the  scoffers  got 
a  blow  from  an  iron  chain  in  his  face,  with  such  force, 
that  the  blood  streamed  down,  and  he  had  to  thank  his 
red  mantle  for  not  being  himself  a  subject  of  laughter. 
No  wonder  that  the  cithern  and  pipe-players  who  sur- 
rounded the  pantomimist,  moderated  their  leaping.  What 
was  taken  from  the  enemy  in  helmets,  arms,  and  vessels 
of  the  temple,  in  gold  and  bronze,  was  of  little  value. 
Amongst  their  arms,  the  native  spear  of  the  conquered 
excited  some  attention.  It  was  of  small,  short,  but  very 
sharp  iron.  The  shields  were  also  considered  remark- 
able, because  of  their  form,  and  rare  variety  of  orna- 
ments. 

The  distinguished  Eomans,  who  accompanied  the 
triumphal  car,  were  a  cheerful  contrast  to  the  despairing 

*  Tacitus  Germ.  a.  in. 


THE    TRIUMPHAL    PROCESSION.       213 

gloom  of  the  captives.  Immediately  behind  the  nobles, 
the  cohorts  of  the  victorious  soldiers  followed ;  the  foot 
and  cavalry  were  crowned  with  wreaths.  They  sing 
songs  in  praise  of  their  arms,  and  seize  the  wine  and 
delicate  morsels  which  were  now  and  then  offered  them 
by  the  nobles.  Whatever  houses  the  procession  passed, 
were  ornamented  with  garlands,  flowers,  and  tapestry,  on 
which  the  initials  of  the  Emperor's  name  were  richly 
embroidered.  The  cries,  "lo  triumphs  I  Vivant  Patres 
Patrisef" — "Triumph!  triumph  to  the  father  of  the 
fatherland ! "  echoed  from  all  sides.* 

The  pavement  of  the  different  streets  was  thickly 
strewn  with  flowers,  so  that  Rome  resembled  a  flower- 
garden.  In  addition  to  this,  the  air  was  heavy  with 
perfume, — for  from  every  temple  the  incense  rose  in 
clouds,  but  from  the  Pantheon  of  Agrippa,  and  from  the 
Capitoline  Hill  it  was  dense. 

The  Emperor  was  so  affected  at  his  reception, -that  he 
called  out  to  the  people  several  times,  "This  is  the  hap- 
piest day  of  my  life!"  and  he  kissed  the  golden  bull  that 
hung  upon  his  neck  as  a  preservative  against  envy. 

*  Young  Commodus,  nearly  a  year  later,  as  Marcus  Aurelius  had  him  titled 
Augustus  and  partner  in  the  government,  received  from  the  Senate  the  hon- 
orable title  of  "Father  of  the  Fatherland,"  a  title  of  which  he  was  as  un- 
worthy as  the  Senate  who  conferred  it.  How  Commodus,  who  was  sole 
Emperor  at  eighteen  years  old,  treated  the  Senate,  can  be  seen  by  the  follow- 
ing example.  Once  he  killed  a  bird  in  the  amphitheatre,  cut  off  its  head  and 
returned  to  his  seat  with  his  bloody  sword;  then  he  showed  the  head  of  the 
bird  to  the  Senators,  who  were  sitting  near  him,  and  gave  them  by  menaces 
to  understand  that  he  would  treat  their  heads  so.  Dio  Cassius,  who  relates 
the  circumstance,  sat  under  them,  and  declares  they  could  only  suppress  their 
laughter  at  the  comie  scene,  by  stuffing  their  mouths  with  the  leaves  of  their 
laurel-wreaths,  which  they  pulled  from  their  hair.  The  laughter  would  have 
cost  them  their  lives. 


214        TEE    TRIUMPHAL    PROCESSION. 

At  the  foot  of  the  Capitol  a  large  statue  of  Faustina 
was  erected,  before  which  the  procession  halted,  and  the 
Emperor  descended  from  the  car  of  triumph  and  offered 
incense.  Then  he  ascended  the  marble  steps  of  Jupiter 
Capitolinus;  when  ascending,  the  Moor  presented  him 
with  the  golden  crown,  and  the  conqueror  laid  it  at  the 
feet  of  Jupiter  with  the  words,  "The  gods  have  con- 
quered :  to  Jupiter  Pluvius  belongs  the  crown." 

The  animals  that  followed  in  the  procession  were  here 
offered  in  sacrifice.  At  the  same  moment  sacrifices  com- 
menced in  all  the  other  temples.  The  procession  at  an 
end,  the  feasting  commenced.  On  this,  and  on  the  fol- 
lowing days,  public  festivities  of  all  sorts  were  celebrated, 
whereby  old  and  young,  high  and  low,  and  particularly 
the  common  people,  gave  themselves  up  to  all  sorts  of 
gaming,  and  the  most  far-fetched  revelling  and  gorman- 
dizing in  the  customary  way,  and  which  were  indigenous 
to  the  Eoman  people.  The  plays,  says  an  ancient  writer, 
which  the  Emperor  had  provided  for  the  people,  were 
magnificent,  and  at  one  of  tKem  appeared  not  less  than 
a  hundred  lions  for  combat.  Notwithstanding  his  great 
efforts  to  make  himself  pleasing  to  all,  still  he  opposed 
them  in  their  desire  of  gladiatorial  combats.  He  took 
their  swords,  and  exchanged  them  for  the  rapier,  and 
maintained  that  they  could  prove  their  skill  equally  with 
them,  and  that  the  murders  would  be  less  _  frequent. 

The  feast  was  concluded  by  Marcus  making  presents 
to  the  people:  no  Emperor,  in  fact,  held  them  in  so 
much  consideration  as  he  did.  He  mentioned,  in  a 
speech  to  them,  his  several  years'  absence  from  Eome, 
and  some  who  were  listening  to  him  held  up  eight 


THE    TRIUMPHAL    PROCESSION.       215 

fingers  and  called  out,  "Eight  years."  The  Emperor 
gave  immediate  orders  for  each  one  present  to  receive 
eight  pieces  of  gold  of  the  value  of  a  ducat,  in  remem- 
brance of  those  eight  years.  The  provincial  towns,  as 
Dio  Cassius  remarks,  and  particularly  Smyrna,  that  had 
just  risen  from  its  ashes,  were  richly  gifted  by  the  Em- 
peror. Through  such  munificence,  the  coffers  of  Marcus 
Aurelius  were  so  much  exhausted,  that  at  last  he  had 
no  money.  He  therefore  put  up  his  imperial  jewels,  his 
plate,  and  even  Faustina's  jewels  and  wardrobe,  for  pub- 
lic sale.  * 

Inasmuch  as  Marcus  Aurelius  gained  the  favor  of  his 
people  by  his  generosity,  and  as  much  as  he  labored  to 
establish  his  dignity,  so  much  the  more  was  Commodus 
hated  by  them ;  so  that  all  the  intentions  and  labors  of 
the  noble  father  were  wrecked  on  the  worthlessness  of 
the  son.  He  was  wanton,  cruel,  unjust,  and  rapacious, 
and  in  every  respect  bore  a  striking  resemblance  to  his 
tyrannical  and  depraved  predecessor,  Domitian,  and  his 
greatest  ambition  was  to  be  styled,  "  The  conqueror  of  a 
thousand  gladiators."  Commodus'  wicked  career  was 
terminated  by  a  sudden  and  violent  death,  in  the  thirty- 
first  year  of  his  age,  after  a  reign  of  thirteen  years. 


CHAPTER    XX. 


LTD  I A    IN    SEARCH    OF    HER    MOTHER. 

1 UCIEN  remarked  once,  in  speaking  of  the 
Christians:  "It  is  scarcely  to  be  believed 
how  these  men,  so  indifferent  to  the  duties  of 
the  state,  can  run,  the  moment  the  neck  of  one 
of  their  own  sect  is  in  danger ;  they  assemble 
together  like  ants  to  save  him.  They  are 
persuaded  that  they  are  immortal  in  soul  and 
body,  and  are  taught  to  believe  that  they  are  all 
brothers." 

How  could  it  be  difficult,  under  such  circumstances, 
for  one  of  their  faith,  entering  the  imperial  city  as  a 
stranger,  to  find  a  hospitable  reception  with  sympathiz- 
ing brothers. 

Even  as  it  is  to  this  day,  where  the  members  of  that 
community  settle  themselves  near  the  church,  so  we  find 
that  the  Christians  of  that  time  placed  themselves  near 
the  sanctuary,  and  that  too  on  the  east  side  of  the  city. 

The  Viminal  Hill  could  perhaps  be  called  the  first 
spot  where  a  colony  of  Christians  settled.  "Already  in 
the  time  of  the  apostles  there  were  in  Home,  places  con- 

(216) 


LYDIA    IN   SEARCH    OF   HER    MOTHER.    217 

secrated  to  God, — by  some  called  oratories,  by  others 
churches, — where,  on  every  first  day  of  the  week,  a 
meeting  took  place,  and  the  Christians  who  prayed  there 
heard  the  word  of  God,  and  received  communion."  * 

At  the  foot  of  the  Viminal  stood  the  church  called  the 
"  Church  of  the  Shepherd."  In  this  church,  which  was 
afterwards  called  St.  Pudentiana,  St.  Peter  had  officiated 
a  hundred  years  previous,  and  there  celebrated  the  sacred 
mysteries.  S.S.  Peter  and  Paul,  during  their  sojourn  in 
Eome,  converted  to  Christianity  the  Senator  Pudens  and 
his  daughters ;  and  those  two  daughters,  Pudentiana  and 
Praxedes,  who  clung  to  the  Faith  with  a  holy  zeal,  ap- 
propriated not  only  their  dwelling-places,  but  the  entire 
of  their  fortunes  to  religious  purposes. 

At  this  day,  eighteen  hundred  years  later,  strangers 
find  in  Rome,  not  far  from  the  famous  Basilica  of  S. 
Maria  Maggiore,  two  churches  called  St.  Pudentiana  and 
St.  Praxedes. 

Although  Lydia  was  a  stranger  in  Eome,  still  she 
found  in  these  oratories  several  Christians,  who  with  the 
greatest  kindness  assured  her  of  their  services,  for  they 
were  at  that  time,  as  in  the  apostles',  "One  heart  and  one 
soul."  She  hastened  to  impart  to  her  first  acquaintance, 
how  her  mother  had  been  torn  from  her,  several  years 
back,  at  Smyrna, — that  she  was  a  Christian,  and  her 
name  Charitana,  and  that  she  was  probably  a  slave  in 
Rome.  The  number  of  the  Christians  was  then  so  great, 
that  it  would  have  been  difficult  in  so  large  a  city  to  find 
a  slave,  who  had  in  all  probability  changed  her  former 
name.  Besides,  the  rich  families  were,  for  the  most  part, 

*  C.  f.  Proprium  Sanctorum  in  dedicut.     Basil  S.  S.  Salvatoris. 
19 


218    LTDIA    IN  SEARCH    OF  HER    MOTHER. 

in  the  country  during  the  summer  months,  seeking 
change  of  air,  either  in  the  mountains  or  at  the  sea-side, 
where  they  were  attended  by  the  greater  number  of  their 
domestics. 

Lydia  resolved  to  remain  in  Eome,  and  to  seek  her 
mother  unceasingly  until  she  had  found  her,  or  till  she 
had  received  certain  news  of  her  fate. 

She  was  told  that  in  a  few  days  the  feast  of  St.  Mag- 
dalen would  be  celebrated,  and  that  for  this  purpose 
many  of  the  Christians  would  assemble  in  the  Cata- 
combs near  the  Appian  Way,  for  divine  service,  and 
that  she  would  probably  then  receive  more  certain  news 
of  Charitana. 

At  these  words,  Lydia's  countenance  brightened ;  she 
felt  herself  the  happiest  of  mortals,  and  imagined  her- 
self already  in  the  embraces  of  her  dear  mother,  from 
whom  she  had  been  so  long  separated.  This  hope  did 
not  deter  her  from  making  inquiries  of  all  the  Christians 
she  met,  asking  them  if  they  had  seen  or  heard  anything 
of  Charitana.  She  went  first  of  all  to  a  pious  and 
wealthy  matron,  named  Felicitas,  to  whom  she  was  re- 
commended by  Bishop  Dionysius,  and  was  received  by 
her  as  if  she  had  belonged  to  the  renowned  family  of 
this  much-tried  woman.  The  circumstance  that  she  was 
the  daughter  of  one  sold  on  account  of  her  Faith,  was  a 
sufficient  recommendation.  Felicitas  promised  that  she 
would  introduce  her  to  the  Eoman  Bishop  Soter,  at  the 
next  meeting  of  the  Faithful,  and  added  that  perhaps  he 
could  give  her  some  intelligence. 

We  will  now  accompany  the  Christians  to  the  nightly 


LYDIA    IN   SEARCH    OF   HER   MOTHER.    219 

meeting,  which  on  the  above-named  day  took  place  in 
the  Catacombs  in  the  Appian  "Way.  It  is  two  hours  past 
midnight,  and  Korne  is  sunk  in  sleep;  but  here  and 
there  can  be  seen  a  straggler,  who  has  been  tempted  to 
linger  with  his  dissolute  companions  far  beyond  the  hour 
prescribed  by  usage.  Approaching  footsteps  echoed 
along  the  deserted  streets ;  some  females  from  the  house 
of  a  wealthy  Roman  solicitor,  Minitius  Felix,  were 
wending  their  way  in  profound  silence  along  the  Esqui- 
line  Hill,  and  passing  the  Coliseum.  This  gigantic 
structure,  erected  by  order  of  Vespasian,  is  said  to  have 
been  built  in  one  year,  by  the  forced  labor  of  12,000 
Jews  and  Christians.  It  consisted  of  three  orders  of 
architecture,  the  Doric,  Ionic,  and  Corinthian,  and  was 
sixteen  hundred  and  twelve  feet  in  circumference.  It 
contained  eighty  arcades,  and  was  capable  of  accommo- 
dating a  hundred  thousand  spectators.  Their  road  led 
to  the  new  and  extensive  baths  built  by  Antoninus,  and 
then  across  to  the  Via  Appia  towards  the  Almo  River. 
The  females  to  the  left  advance  towards  some  villas  in 
the  valley  of  Egeria,  where  were  some  monuments  to 
the  departed  Romans,  and  a  temple  to  the  Deus  Ridi- 
culus. 

The  pious  company  had  not  yet  reached  the  Cata- 
combs, when  Lydia  interrupted  the  long  silence  of  her 
companions  by  remarking,  "I  wonder  if  I  shall  see  my 
mother  again  in  this  world !  Now  that  I  expect  to  hear 
something  of  her,  I  feel  myself  oppressed  with  an  un- 
usual heaviness  and  anxious  sorrow.  Our  wandering 
here  in  the  first  dawn  of  morning,  as  well  as  the  tombs 
here  in  the  Appian  Way, — yes,  the  memory  of  the  saint 


220    LYD1A    IN   SEARCH    OF  HER    MOTHER. 

herself,  whose  feast  we  are  going  to  celebrate,  —  all  re- 
mind me  of  the  journey  of  those  holy  women,  who,  be- 
fore it  was  yet  day,  departed  from  Jerusalem  to  visit  the 
sepulchre  of  our  Redeemer.  Perhaps  our  way  will  also 
lead  to  a  grave." 

"Why  such  melancholy  thoughts,"  interrupted  Feli- 
citas;  "remember  that  Magdalen  found  Him  living, 
whom  she  sought  in  the  grave.  "We  are  also  going  to 
the  graves  of  the  saints,  who  lie  in  the  Catacombs, -and 
perhaps  you  will  find  her,  whom  you  seek  amongst  the 
dead,  also  living."  The  nearer  she  approached  the  en- 
trance, the  more  animated  became  the  streets  which  led 
to  the  subterraneous  churches.  Christians  from  all  parts 
were  assembling  at  that  early  hour,  to  join  in  the  solemn 
service.  The  women  passed  through  a  door  to  the  sub- 
terraneous streets  and  to  the  last  resting-places  of  so 
many  thousands  of  the  faithful  departed.  A  youth  was 
keeping  a  careful  watch  at  the  door,  and  offered  them  a 
taper.  The  air  was  thick  and  oppressive,  which  the 
heat  of  summer  did  not  tend  to  lessen,  and  the  smell  of 
mouldering  bodies  was  scarcely  to  be  borne.  The  gray 
walls  of  the  alternately  small  and  large  passages,  which 
crossed  each  other  a  hundred  times,  were  full  of  aper- 
tures in  the  form  of  open  coffins ;  some  of  these  apertures, 
which  were  carried  up  on  each  side  in  several  tiers,  were 
covered  with  stone  slabs,  on  each  of  which  was  an  in- 
scription in  Latin  or  Greek.  In  some  places,  a  little 
earthen  vessel  was  placed  before  the  inscription,  a  sign 
that  a  martyr  rested  there.  There  were  in  several  places, 
sacred  emblems  under  the  inscriptions, — such  as  a  deer 
thirsting  for  water,  or  a  pair  of  palm- branches,  or  a  ship 


LTD  I A    IN  SEARCH    OF   HER    MOTHER.      221 

in  full  sail.  On  many  of  the  slabs  the  initials  of  our 
Lord's  name  could  be  seen. 

They  had  already  gone  through  several  of  these  sub- 
terranean passages,  when  at  length  the  sound  of  music 
fell  upon  their  ears.  Further  on,  the  space  widened, 
and  a  subterranean  church,  lighted  up  with  lamps  and 
wax  lights,  opened  to  their  view.  The  length  of  the 
church  was  considerable,  and  contained  two  divisions, 
one  for  the  clergy  and  men,  the  other  for  the  females. 

At  the  conclusion  of  the  singing,  an  aged  priest  ad- 
vanced towards  the  altar,  and  turning  from  the  people, 
commenced  the  divine  sacrifice.  The  arrangements  of 
the  prayers  were,  for  the  most  part,  as  they  are  now. 
After  the  holy  sacrifice,  a  great  number  of  those  present 
retired  to  an  adjacent  hall,  to  hand  to  the  Bishop  chari- 
table gifts,  or  to  consult  on  the  affairs  of  the  faithful. 
Lydia  had  looked  round  in  vain  to  see  if  her  mother 
were  among  the  number  of  those  present.  Felicitaa 
turned  to  one  of  the  Deacons,  and  begged  his  permission 
to  speak  to  the  aged  priest  who  had  just  celebrated 
mass.  Her  request  was  granted,  and  she  informed  him 
that  a  Christian  from  Smyrna  had  arrived  in  search  of 
her  mother,  who  was  also  a  Christian,  and  named  Chari- 
tana,  and  after  whom  she  had,  up  to  the  present,  made 
fruitless  inquiries.  At  this,  joy  and  pain  were  alike 
depicted  on  the  priest's  countenance,  for  he  doubted  not 
being  able  to  give  the  information  she  required.  The 
young  stranger  stood  motionless  before  him,  her  eye 
anxiously  fixed  upon  every  movement  of  his  lips.  She 
expected  that  the  thousand  conjectures  which  had  so 

often  harassed   her   mind  were  now  about  to  be  con- 
19* 


222  LTD  I A  IN  SEARCH  OF  HER  MOTHER. 

firmed.  "O  thou  happy  child!"  said  the  old  man, — 
"  happy  in  having  been  in  the  school  of  St.  Polycarp, 
and  threefold  happy,  because  thou  art  the  daughter  of  a 
Saint!" 

His  voice  began  to  falter,  which  Felicitas  perceiving, 
understood  at  once  what  was  to  follow,  and  turned  aside 
to  conceal  her  emotion.  Lydia  did  not  understand  the 
meaning  of  his  words ;  her  heart  beat  violently,  as  the 

old  man  rose  and  motioned  to  them  to   follow  him. 

» 

They  went  through  long  passages  that  crossed  each 
other  at  intervals,  till  they  came  to  one  somewhat 
wider ;  here  the  priest  stood  still.  He  brushed  away  a 
tear,  and  motioned  Lydia  to  approach.  With  deep  emo- 
tion, he  drew  her  attention  to  a  square  stone,  upon 
which  the  light  of  the  torch  fell,  and  helped  her  to 
perceive,  though  indistinctly,  the  name  of  her  beloved 
mother. 

"  Charitana  the  martyr  lies  here,  as  a  saint  among  the 
Saints.  She  died  on  the  Ides  of  April.  Rejoice  in  the 
Lord,  and  pray  for  us ! " 

Lydia  read  the  inscription,  and  turned  with  a  look 
full  of  vague  sorrow  towards  Felicitas.  Her  eye  be- 
trayed a  doubt  as  to  whether  she  was  not  mistaken ;  and 
looking  at  her  friend,  she  suddenly  uttered  a  loud  scream 
that  echoed  through  the  vaults,  and  cast  herself  convul- 
sively into  the  arms  of  Felicitas,  where  she  remained 
motionless  for  some  minutes.  At  last  she  began  to 
realize  her  position.  She  was  standing  at  the  grave  of 
her  mother,  Charitana; — in  that  very  hour  in  which 
she  had  hoped  to  find  her  living,  she  had  found  her 
tombt  A  phial  of  the  Martyr's  blood  stood  near  the 


LTD  I A    IN   SEARCH    OF  HER   MOTHER.     223 

slab.  What  hast  thou  not  to  suffer,  much-tried  daugh- 
ter, before  thy  body  sinks  beneath  the  burden  of  thy 
trials !  Thou  earnest  from  Athens  to  Eome  to  seek  thy 
long-lost  mother,  and  thou  hast  found  nothing  but  her 
tomb!  O  that  thou  also  couldst  rest  here  in  peace! 
Faith  and  affection  struggled  within  her,  —  affection 
grieved  at  not  having  her  beloved  mother  on  earth,  but 
Faith  rejoiced  at  her  triumph.  The  latter  conquered, 
and  the  daughter  sank  upon  her  knees  and  pressed  her 
hands  upon  the  stone  that  covered  the  remains  of  all 
she  held  most  dear.  Many  and  strong  were  the  feelings 
that  agitated  her  heart, — sorrow  and  pity  struggled  for 
mastery,  but  the  joy  that  the  departed  one  had  gained 
the  crown  of  martyrdom,  silenced  every  other  emotion. 
At  that  time,  as  well  as  now,  a  lively  faith  penetrated 
the  hearts  of  the  believers,  and  the  separation  between 
the  living  and  the  dead  did  not  appear  so  dreadful. 
Fervent  Christians  considered  a  good  death  as  the  great- 
est gift  from  God ;  and  what  can  any  one  wish  more  for 
those  he  loves,  than  the  possession  of  the  highest  of  all 
gifts— God  Himself! 

Therefore,  great  as  Lydia's  joy  would  have  been,  had 
she  found  her  mother  amongst  the  living,  still  she  was 
no  less  delighted  that  she  had  suffered  death  for  the 
Faith,  by  which  she  had  secured  the  immediate  posses- 
sion of  God.  Charitana,  as  we  have  already  related, 
was  shipped  for  Eome  on  the  night  of  the  earthquake 
of  Smyrna,  and  was  there  purchased  by  a  former  Pre- 
fect. As  long  as  the  persecution  was  quiet,  Cresentius 
would  not  betray  that  she  was  a  Christian. 

The   philosopher   Justin   wrote   a   letter  of  defence 


224     LYD1A    IN   SEARCH    OF   HER    MOTHER. 

about  this  time,  and  addressed  it  to  Marcus  Aurelius, 
and  the  Senate.  Soon  after  he  was  cast  into  prison, 
together  with  several  other  Christians.  Cresentius,  in 
order  to  ingratiate  himself  with  the  Proconsul  Eusticus, 
sent  his  slave  Charitana  to  him,  telling  him  that  he 
might  do  with  her  what  he  liked.  The  Proconsul  or- 
dered Charitana,  whose  strength  was  already  greatly 
impaired  by  anxiety,  to  be  sent  to  the  same  prison  with 
the  other  Christians.  When  Justin,  with  six  of  his 
companions  in  the  Faith,  was  brought  before  the  judge, 
he  commenced  speaking,  and  declared  openly  and 
frankly  that  they  would  preserve  their  faith  to  their 
last  breath.  To  offer  sacrifice  to  the  gods,  as  the  Em- 
peror had  commanded,  Justin  held  to  be  in  opposition 
to  the  commands  of  the  Redeemer.  Rusticus  questioned 
him  as  to  what  sort  of  learning  occupied  him.  Justin 
gave  the  answer  that  is  to  be  found  in  the  acts  of  his 
martyrdom :  "  I  exerted  myself  to  attain  knowledge  of 
all  sorts,  but  as  I  could  not  therein  find  the  truth,  I  at 
last  devoted  myself  to  Christian  philosophy,  although  it 
displeases  those  who  allow  themselves  to  be  blinded  by 
error  and  prejudice.  I  glory  in  it,  because  it  has  af- 
forded me  the  advantage  of  walking  in  the  way  of 
truth." 

When  asked  by  the  Prefect  about  the  place  where  the 
Christians  usually  assembled,  he  answered,  "They  as- 
semble when  and  where  they  can.  Our  God  is  not 
bound  to  any  certain  place,  as  he  is  invisible,  and  fills 
Heaven  and  earth ;  He  is  praised  and  worshipped  in  all 
places." 

The  judge  put  similar  questions  to  the  others  who 


LTD  I A    IN  SEARCH    OF  HER    MOTHER.     225 

were  imprisoned  with  Justin,  and  they  all  answered  that 
they  were  Christians  by  the  mercy  of  God.  "  Are  you 
convinced,"  said  the  Proconsul,  turning  to  Justin,  "  that 
you  will  ascend  to  Heaven  if  you  be  scourged  from 
head  to  foot?" 

Justin  answered  in  the  affirmative.  "  Our  sufferings 
will  hasten  our  happiness,  and  carry  us  to  that  judg- 
ment-seat before  which  all  will  have  to  appear."  The 
others  added,  "  It  is  useless  to  keep  us  longer  waiting. 
We  are  Christians,  and  will  never  sacrifice  to  the  gods." 

As  the  Prefect  saw  that  they  persevered  undauntedly 
in  their  refusal,  he  condemned  them  to  be  first  scourged, 
and  then,  according  to  the  Roman  method,  he  com- 
manded them  once  more  to  sacrifice  to  the  gods:  but 
all  refused.  The  martyrs  were  then  led  to  the  place  of 
execution  where  they  received  their  glorious  crowns. 

Justin  had  already  fallen,  and  five  of  his  companions 
had  shared  his  fate,  leaving  Cbaritana  alone  standing  in 
the  blood  of  her  companions.  She  bent  her  head  to  the 
earth  in  all  humility,  crossed  her  arms  upon  her  breast, 
and  remained  in  prayer.  As  she  returned  no  answer  to 
the  many  questions  put  to  her  by  the  judge,  Bastions 
gave  a  sign  to  the  executioner,  and  immediately  his 
rough  hand  seized  her  fainting  form  by  the  shoulder, 
cast  her  to  the  ground,  and  in  a  moment  her  head  lay 
severed  from  her  body. 

The  legends  have  preserved  to  us  the  names  of  these 
six  martyrs  who  suffered  with  Justin,  and  they  are : 
Charitana,  Euclipistus,  Hierax,  Paeon,  Liberianus,  and 
Chariton.  The  year  of  this  event  is  given  as  A.  D.  167. 
13th  of  April.  Justin  is  honored  by  the  Greeks  on  the 
1st  of  June.  P 


226     LTD1A    IN  SEARCH    OF  HER    MOTHER. 

After  this  short  digression,  let  us  return  again  to  the 
grave  of  Charitana.  He  who  led  her  daughter  to  it,  is 
already  departed  to  join  the  meeting  which  was  usual 
after  the  sacrifice.  He  is  no  other  than  the  kind  and 
pious  pope,  Soter,  who  is  like  the  Good  Shepherd  in  the 
midst  of  his  threatened  sheep,  and  whose  bare  appear- 
ance is  a  loud  exhortation  to  all  to  stand  firm.  Church 
history  praised  this  holy  pope  in  a  particular  manner, 
on  account  of  his  mildness  and  fatherly  tenderness. 
Not  only  to  the  members  of  the  Church  in  Rome  did 
the  Pope  extend  his  care,  but  also  to  each  one  individu- 
ally, no  matter  whence  he  came.  That  same  Dionysius 
whom  we  before  mentioned,  sent  his  thanks  to  the 
Faithful  in  Rome  for  the  donations  they  had  forwarded 
to  him  at  Corinth.  "From  the  beginning  of  Christi- 
anity," he  wrote  to  them,  "you  were  accustomed  to 
assist  the  faithful  in  every  possible  way,  and  to  supply 
the  wants  of  many  churches.  You  have  also  provided 
for  the  support  of  the  poor  brethren  in  the  mines,  and 
thereby  proved  yourselves  true  imitators  of  our  great 
Master.  Your  bishop,  the  highly  venerated  Soter,  far 
from  preventing  this  praiseworthy  custom,  has  himself, 
on  the  contrary,  given  it  a  fresh  impetus,  and  he  is  not 
only  careful  to  distribute  alms  collected  for  the  support 
of  the  Christians,  but  he  comforts  with  the  tenderness 
of  a  father  all  the  Faithful  who  go  to  Rome." 

How  consoling  it  was  for  Lydia  to  witness  the  truth 
confirmed  of  all  she  had  heard  in  Greece  of  Soter's 
goodness.  There  was  not  one  in  the  whole  assembly 
for  whom  this  holy  man  had  not  a  word  of  encourage- 
ment and  edification.  None  amongst  them  is  truly  in 


LYDIA    IN  SEARCH    OF  HER    MOTHER.     227 

need,  because  all  are  rich  in  love.  It  was  one  and  the 
same  faith  which  called  the  Christians  of  the  only  true 
Church  to  such  meetings,  and  if  they  were  threatened 
with  worldly  power,  so  one  and  the  same  hope  made 
each  danger  small,  nay,  insignificant.  But  that  the 
calumnies  which  were  to  be  met  with  everywhere  in  the 
heathen  writings  were  without  foundation,  we  can  see 
already  from  the  letter  which  Pliny  the  younger  ad- 
dressed to  the  Emperor  Trajan,  in  which  amongst  other 
things  he  says:  "The  Christians  assure  us  that  their 
entire  guilt  consists  in  this,  that,  on  certain  days  before 
the  rising  of  the  sun,  they  assemble  to  sing  a  hymn  in 
honor  of  Christ  the  Son  of  God.  Therefore  they  would 
not  have  solemnly  bound  themselves  to  treason,  but  on 
the  contrary  refrain  from  theft  and  adultery,  and  the 
denial  of  that  which  is  intrusted  to  them." 

The  Faithful  withdrew  separately  to  return  to  the 
city.  The  pope  still  remained  in  the  meeting-hall  to 
Arrange  the  collections.  Lydia  advanced  to  the  holy 
father,  cast  herself  at  his  feet,  and  thanked  him  for 
what  he  had  done  for  her  mother.  At  the  same  time 
she  had  learned  that,  as  Soter  had  been  a  friend  of  St. 
Polycarp,  and  in  consideration  of  Charitana  having 
been  his  spiritual  daughter,  he  gave  orders  himself  for 
her  burial  and  tomb.  The  kind  pope  exhorted  Lydia 
to  imitate  the  virtues  of  her  mother,  and  to  persevere 
with  firmness  to  the  end,  in  imitating  her  Divine  Mas- 
ter. She  then  visited  the  tombs  of  Anicetus  and  of 
several  other  popes,  and  returned  with  her  companions 
through  the  entrance  of  the  Catacombs  to  the  Via 
Appia. 


CHAPTER    XXI. 
SOLITUDE  AND    HOLT  PLACES. 

>  YDI A,  after  the  events  of  the  last  few  days, 
sought  retirement  in  a  little  room  appro- 
priated for  her  use  in  the  house  of  the  pious 
Felicitas,  there  to  recover  her  strength  in 
silence,  and  to  impart  the  results  of  her  visit 
to  Eome  to  her  much  valued  and  now  only 
friend  on  earth,  Metella.  She  felt  it  her 
duty  to  give  a  detailed  account  of  everything  she  saw 
and  heard  to  her  dear  mistress.  After  God,  it  was  the 
only  solace  left  her,  to  communicate  her  inmost  thoughts 
to  one  whom  she  so  tenderly  loved. 

Eome  was  at  this  time  peopled  by  nearly  a  million 
of  inhabitants,  and  although  its  magnificent  palaces  and 
temples,  its  public  baths  and  pleasure-grounds,  could 
not  be  surpassed,  still  Lydia  preferred  to  renounce  the 
immediate  seeing  of  those  great  sights,  that  she  might 
reflect  on  the  wonderful  ways  of  God,  particularly  as 
they  had  been  revealed  to  her  within  the  last  few  days. 
She  was  accustomed  at  all  times,  as  often  as  a  remark- 
able event  occurred  that  broke  through  the  monotony 

(228) 


SOLITUDE   AND    HOLT  PLACES.         229 

of  her  hidden  life,  to  retire  into  herself,  and  seek  to  dis- 
cover the  cause,  by  a  close  union  with  God.  The  sweet 
remembrances  of  her  joyful  childhood  passed  like 
phantoms  before  her  eyes.  She  thought  of  the  time 
when,  as  a  cheerful,  happy  child,  she  sat  on  her  mother's 
knee,  and  listened  to  her  pious  instructions,  and  the 
raptures  with  which  she  spoke  of  the  happiness  that  is 
prepared  in  Heaven  for  those  who  serve  God  faithfully 
on  earth.  Then,  the  remembrance  of  the  sorrowful 
hours  she  spent  at  the  bedside  of  a  dying  father,  whose 
pious  exhortations  sank  deeply  into  her  youthful  mind. 
Then,  how  she  sat  at  the  feet  of  those  holy  men,  filled 
with  the  Divine  Spirit,  to  be  instructed  by  them  in  the 
faith,  and  who  afterwards  shed  their  blood  in  its  defence. 
But  she  became  doubly  afflicted  when  her  thoughts 
turned  upon  the  last  meeting  she  had  with  her  dear 
mother.  But  this  was  now  at  an  end,  and  her  heart 
be'at  with  emotion  as  she  looked  heavenward,  and  repre- 
sented to  herself  the  glorious  triumphs  of  the  saints; 
and  she  knew  that  in  the  number  of  the  elect  she  had 
an  advocate  that  would  never  forget  her.  If  a  breath 
of  temptation  passed  over  her  pure  heart,  the  bare 
thought  of  this,  her  advocate,  was  a  strong  shield 
against  all  the  suggestions  of  the  Evil  One.  So  should 
all  Christian  mothers  become  the  guardian  spirits  of 
their  children  here  on  earth,  and  if  the  heart  of  a  well- 
trained  child  find  itself  inclined  to  commit  sin,  the 
remembrance  of  a  mother's  pious  admonitions  will 
never  fail  to  warn  it  against  the  seductions  of  the 
common  Enemy. 

The  beloved  parent  of  Lydia  had  given  her,  during 
20 


230         SOLITUDE   AND    HOLT  PLACES. 

life,  a  perfect  model  of  what  a  Christian  ought  to  be, 
and  confirmed  it  by  her  holy  death.  God  did  not  accept 
the  sacrifice  of  Lydia's  freedom,  which  she  had  come 
from  Greece  to  offer;  but  the  merit  was  not  less,  for 
God  accepts  the  will,  and  in  that  the  sacrifice  was  in- 
cluded. Therefore  the  pious  daughter  could  from  that 
time  forward  perfectly  enjoy  her  freedom,  the  greatest 
amongst  all  the  temporal  blessings,  and  that  which  is  the 
most  difficult  to  resign. 

No  Christian  would  leave  Eome  without  visiting  the 
tombs  of  the  saints.  "  In  my  youth,"  said  Hieronymus, 
"  when  I  studied  in  Rome,  I  used  to  spend  my  Sundays 
at  the  tombs  of  the  Apostles  and  Martyrs.  How  often 
have  I  visited  the  crypts,  where  their  sacred  remains  lay 
side  by  side,  and  surrounded  by  a  darkness  that  im- 
pressed the  visitor  with  a  holy  awe !" 

The  tombs  of  S.S.  Peter  and  Paul  first  claimed  Lydia's 
attention.  According  to  Pope  Gregory,  the  two  Apos- 
tles were  first  buried  in  the  Catacombs,  two  miles  dis- 
tant from  the  city.  Soon  afterwards,  the  body  of  St. 
Peter  was  brought  to  the  Vatican  Hill,  and  that  of  St. 
Paul  to  the  Ostian  Way.  After  Lydia  had  visited  the 
tombs  of  the  Apostles,  before  which  so  many  thousand 
Christians  had  had  their  faith  strengthened,  she  then  de- 
sired to  see  the  spot  where  her  mother's  blood  had  been 
shed.  Felicitas,  who  accompanied  her  on  the  wa}', 
showed  her  the  temple  of  Jupiter  on  the  Capitoline  Hill, 
under  which  were  the  dark  prisons,  where  so  many 
Christians,  Lydia's  mother  amongst  the  number,  had 
suffered  imprisonment.  These  vaults  were  hewn  out  of 
the  Capitoline  Hill,  and  to  the  deepest  there  was  not 


SOLITUDE  AND   HOLT  PLACES.        231 

even  a  passage,  and  the  condemned  had  to  be  slipped 
into  the  vault  on  planks ;  this  can  be  seen  at  the  present 
day.  In  one  of  these  subterraneous  prisons,  was  also  St. 
Peter,  wherein  he  baptized  a  jailer  with  water  from  a 
spring,  which  he  in  a  wonderful  manner,  like  a  second 
Moses,  brought  forth  from  the  rock.  What  a  multitude 
of  thoughts  did  not  the  sight  of  the  Eoman  Capitol 
occasion !  Above,  was  the  temple  of  Jupiter,  surrounded 
by  a  multiplicity  of  little  shrines  dedicated  to  the  numer- 
ous idols ;  beneath,  as  it  was  then  thought,  was  the  tomb 
for  Christianity; — above,  the  signs  of  unlimited  self- 
love,  which,  as  St.  Augustine  says,  reaches  to  self-deifi- 
cation ;  beneath,  the  signs  of  the  love  of  God,  which 
humbles  and  annihilates  self.  At  a  short  distance  is  the 
Forum.  Who  then  can  describe  the  glorious  combats 
that  were  here  fought,  and  who  could  name  the  thou- 
sands that  heard  their  sentence  here  ?  On  reaching  the 
Forum,  Lydia  knelt  down  and  kissed  the  marble  flags 
which  covered  this  memorable  place,  for  from  that  spot 
her  mother's  soul  had  ascended  to  heaven.  Felicitas 
advanced  a  little,  and  showed  her  where  the  Prefect's 
seat  was  at  that  time, — where  Justin  had  stood,  and 
where  her  mother  had  shed  her  blood. 

"When  Rusticus  saw,"  continued  Felicitas,  "that  Chari- 
tana  would  not  sacrifice  to  the  gods,  he  ordered  her  to 
be  scourged, — a  punishment,  my  child,  that  a  greater 
than  we  had  to  bear,  long  before  us.  She  then  placed 
herself  close  to  her  companions,  and  prayed  unceasingly, 
with  bowed  head.  She  was  so  lost  in  prayer,  that  she 
never  moved  her  position  when  the  head  of  Justin  was 
held  up  to  the  applauding  multitude.  At  last  when  her 


232         SOLITUDE   AND    HOLT  PLACES, 

turn  came,  she  stepped  forward,  and  answered  the  two 
questions:  'For  whom  do  you  die?  and,  does  death  ap- 
pear so  agreeable  ? '  Her  answer  was :  'For  my  Faith  in 
Christ,  who  is  my  Redeemer  and  my  all.  It  is  sweet  to 
suffer  for  a  friend,  but  to  die  for  God  is  heavenly  de- 
light.' " 

Lydia,  with  tears  in  her  eyes,  looked  at  one  time  on 
the  earth,  at  another  towards  heaven.  How  willingly 
would  she  not  have  resigned  her  life  at  that  moment,  to 
be  happy  with  her  mother.  Occupied  with  these  thoughts, 
she  left  the  Forum,  and  Felicitas  led  her  to  the  great 
amphitheatre  of  Nero,  which  from  the  adjacent  high 
Collossus  was  called  the  Coliseum.  How  many  hun- 
dred Christians,  true  to  the  faith,  have  stood  on  this 
Arena,  —  how  many  lions  and  leopards  have  here  lapped 
up  the  blood  of  the  martyrs, — and  how  did  the  applause 
of  ninety  thousand  spectators  thunder  forth,  when  such 
amusements  were  granted  to  pagan  Rome  !  There  were 
still  two  other  tombs  in  which  Lydia  felt  the  deepest  in- 
terest, although  in  later  centuries  the  veil  of  oblivion 
has  passed  over  them. 

About  twenty  years  before  Lydia's  birth,  there  lived, 
in  a  province  of  Umbria,  a  noble  and  richly  endowed 
widow,  named  Sabina.  This  pagan  matron  had  a  Syrian 
slave,  who  with  a  rare  zeal  clung  to  the  doctrines  of  the 
Gospel.  She  never  ceased,  so  says  the  legend,  praising 
the  beauty  of  Christianity  to  her  mistress ;  and  as  she 
exemplified  it  in  her  own  pure  and  chaste  life,  she  over- 
came the  prejudice  which  her  mistress  had  for  many 
years  entertained  against  the  Christians.  Sabina  became 
a  Christian,  and  by  the  brilliancy  of  her  virtues  was  one 


SOLITUDE   AND    HOLT  PLACES.         233 

of  the  brightest  ornaments  of  the  Church  in  the  second 
century. 

The  Emperor  Adrian  published  an  edict  for  a  perse- 
cution of  the  Christians,  and  in  consequen.ce  of  this,  the 
Governor  of  the  province  of  Umbria  imprisoned  Sabina 
and  her  slave,  Seraphica ;  and  as  the  latter  was  the  cause 
of  Sabina's  conversion,  he  had  her  beaten  with  rods  till 
her  tender  body  sunk  under  the  cruelty,  and  she  was 
finally  beheaded.  Seraphica's  mistress,  who  wag  released 
from  prison  in  consideration  of  her  high  rank,  procured 
the  body  of  her  martyred  slave,  and  gave  it  honorable 
interment.  After  this,  she  led  a  more  retired  life  than 
ever,  and  night  and  day  besought  her  departed  friend  to 
obtain  for  her  the  grace  of  martyrdom.  Her  prayer  was 
heard,  for  in  the  following  year  she  was  summoned  by 
Elpidius,  the  new  Governor  of  Umbria,  to  appear  before 
him ;  and  he  having  shamefully  maltreated  her,  ordered 
her  to  prison.  When  she  arrived  there,  she  found  her- 
self filled  with  a  holy  joy.  "And  is  it  then  possible," 
she  exclaimed,  "that  I  am  to  be  admitted  to  a  participa- 
tion of  the  glory  enjoyed  by  my  Seraphica  ?  She  has 
obtained  for  me  this  great  privilege."  She  was  again 
summoned  the  following  day,  but  Elpidius  finding  all 
his  entreaties  vain,  condemned  her  to  be  beheaded.  She 
suffered  on  the  very  day  upon  which,  in  the  preceding 
year,  her  companion  gained  the  crown.*  Although  this 
Syrian  slave  bore  a  great  resemblance  to  Lydia  in  her 
glowing  love  for  Christ,  and  by  the  conversion  of  her 

*  Not  far  from  the  Sulpice  Bridge,  there  was  a  beautiful  church  built  to  St. 
Sabina  some  hundred  years  later,  and  near  which  the  Dominican  monastery 
now  stands,  commanding  a  lovely  view  of  the  magnificent  city.    The  erection 
of  the  church  is  dated  as  far  back  as  A.  D.  430. 
20* 


234        SOLITUDE  AND   HOLY  PLACES. 

mistress,  still  she  had  another  tie  upon  her  affection — 
having  been  baptized  after  that  saint,  whose  name,  it 
will  be  remembered,  she  bore,  till  she  became  a  slave  in 
Athens. 

Lydia  was  seldom  so  oppressed  with  sorrow  as  now, 
standing  before  the  tomb  of  this  much-tried  virgin  who 
bore  the  miseries  of  slavery  to  her  last  breath.  She  cast 
a  look  upon  her  own  interior,  and  read  therein  what  her 
patron  must  have  suffered,  and  also  the  joy  she  must 
have  experienced  when  she  saw  her  mistress  one  of  the 
"  True  Fold."  With  what  ardor  did  not  she  thank  St. 
Seraphica  for  the  protection  she  had  afforded  her  through 
her  past  life,  and  recommended  not  only  herself,  but  also 
her  newly  converted  mistress,  to  the  powerful  protection 
of  both  martyrs. 

Before  the  tombs  of  these  holy  women  she  took  a  vow 
of  perpetual  chastity,  and  resolved,  as  a  handmaid  of  the 
Lord,  to  devote  herself  to  His  service. 


CHAPTER    XXII. 


IREN&US. 

•  YDIA  was  now  occupied  in  making  prepa- 
rations for  her  return  to  Athens,  as  she  was 
receiving  letter  after  letter  from  Metella,  en- 
treating her  to  delay  her  departure  no  longer ; 
and  urged  by  this  last  request,  she  sallied 
forth  at  once,  to  make  inquiries  on  what  day 
the  next  ship  would  sail  for  Greece.  On  her 
way,  she  was  surprised  to  meet  one  whose  features  were 
familiar  to  her,  and  on  a  moment's  reflection,  she  recog- 
nized no  other  than  the  priest  Irenasus,  whom  she  last 
saw  on  the  ruins  of  Smyrna.  "  B 

For  many  years  he  had  preached  the  faith  in  the  south 
of  France,  by  the  side  of  the  aged  Pothinus,  bishop  of 
Lyons,  who,  like  him,  had  been  a  disciple  of  St.  Poly- 
carp.  Immediately  after  the  persecution  had  commenced 
in  Smyrna,  a  number  of  Christians  from  Asia  Minor 
wandered  to  the  south  of  Gaul,  and  Irenaeus  was  one  of 
the  number.  Trade  and  traffic  had  made  their  way  be- 
tween these  two  distant  lands,  where,  as  the  seed  of 

(235) 


236  IREN&US. 

Christianity  began  to  shoot,  a  tempest  of  persecution 
threatened  to  destroy  it  forever. 

Notwithstanding  the  Emperor's  decree,  A.D.  177,  in 
favor  of  the  Christians,  the  Eoman  Governor,  and  the 
people  of  Lyons  and  Vienne,  still  raged  against  them 
with  dreadful  cruelty.  Roman  justice,  as  church  history 
informs  us,  was,  in  the  first  three  centuries,  very  vacil- 
lating, and  the  immense  extent  of  the  Empire  easily  ex- 
plains how  the  Emperor's  decree  was  carried  out  in 
distant  provinces,  with  greater  or  less  exactness,  accord- 
ing to  the  dispositions  of  whatever  governor  was  in 
authority.  The  position  of  a  governor  depended  more 
or  less  on  the  favor  of  the  people,  who,  it  is  well  known, 
had  a  downright  passion  for  sanguinary  combats,  and 
that  their  cry  became,  "Panem  et  Circuses!" — "Bread 
and  the  Circus."  During  war,  Rome  stained  its  sword 
in  the  blood  of  its  enemies ;  during  peace,  in  that  of  its 
own  citizens.  These  were  the  gladiatorial  combats  and 
the  persecutions  of  the  Christians. 

We  need  not  doubt  that  some  Christians  were  to  be 
found  earlier  in  Gaul ;  still  it  is  worthy  of  credit,  that 
no  Christian  blood  was  shed  on  the  soil  of  France  before 
the  reign  of  Marcus  Aurelius. 

The  lights  of  the  new  faith  were  Pothinus  and  Irenseus. 
These  two  great  missionaries  of  Gaul  carried  the  faith 
thither  from  Asia  Minor,  where  they  received  it  from 
St.  Polycarp ;  and  because  Polycarp  had  been  a  disciple 
of  St.  John,  it  might  with  truth  be  said,  that  they  re- 
ceived it  from  the  Apostles  themselves.  The  labors  of 
St.  Pothinus  were  carried  on  almost  in  silence,  and  he 
was  already  a  venerable  man  of  ninety  years  when  the 


1REN&US.  237 

persecution  commenced.  Except  in  the  church  records 
in  Smyrna,  wherein  there  is  an  account  of  the  death  of 
St.  Polycarp  and  his  companions,  we  have  not  so  re- 
markable a  memento  of  Christian  antiquity,  as  the 
famous  account  which  the  churches  of  Lyons  and  Vienne 
have  left  us,  upon  the  persecution  of  the  Church  in  Asia 
Minor.  It  is  thought  that  Irenaeus  was  the  writer  of 
those  epistles,  and  that  in  the  same  year  in  which  the 
persecution  took  place,  177,  he  was  sent  to  Eome  to  im- 
part to  the  pope  the  minutiae  of  the  sanguinary  proceed- 
ings. Soter  was  already  dead,  and  in  his  place  Eleuthe- 
rius  had  undertaken  the  guidance  of  the  Church. 

It  was  the  custom  of  the  first  centuries  to  read  the 
acts  of  the  martyrs  in  all  Christian  assemblies,  for  the 
edification  of  the  Faithful,  and  what  Irenaeus  had  wit- 
nessed with  his  own  eyes,  he  wished  on  his  arrival  in 
Eome  to  deliver  verbally  to  the  Faithful.  The  day  on 
which  he  was  to  hold  the  funeral  oration  on  the  death 
of  forty-eigTit  holy  martyrs,  was  announced  in  the  assem- 
blies, and  the  church  of  St.  Praxedes — that  asylum  and 
oratory  of  the  early  Christians,  beneath  which  the  bodies 
of  3300  martyrs  lay  buried — was  chosen  for  this  pur- 
pose. Lydia  was  also  there,  and  she  took  with  her  the 
precious  girdle  of  St.  Polycarp,  to  become  the  possessor 
of  which  had  cost  her  eleven  years  of  slavery.  With 
anxious  heart,  she  passed  the  Theatre  of  Flora,  ignorant 
of  the  shocking  scenes  that  took  place  there,  —  scenes 
that  often  brought  the  blush  to  the  most  shameless  coun- 
tenances, and  she  stands  already  at  the  entrance  of  the 
house  of  God. 

How  altered  was  Irenaeus !     Care  and  labor,  not  years, 


238  1REN&US. 

had  furrowed  his  countenance,  and  had  given  him  the 
appearance  of  an  aged  man. 

"It  would  be  in  vain  to  describe,"  commenced  Irenseus, 
"the  trouble  that  fell  upon  us  in  those  latter  days.  The 
Christians  in  Lyons  were  formally  proscribed.  They 
were  hunted  forth  from  their  dwellings,  and  the  blue 
heavens  given  to  them  as  a  shelter.  They  were  not 
allowed  to  appear  in  public  places  without  being  put  to 
shame ;  not  even  the  refreshing  comfort  of  a  bath  was 
granted  to  them.  If  any  of  the  people  ill-used  one  of 
us  in  blind  fury,  the  officers  of  justice  had  no  ear  for  his 
troubles ;  on  the  contrary,  it  was  the  officials  themselves 
who  led  the  Christians  to  the  public  places,  and  there 
asked  them  what  their  faith  was,  and  then,  without  any- 
thing further,  had  them  cast  into  prison.  On  account 
of  this  treatment,  one  of  the  senators,  urged  by  a  holy 
zeal,  petitioned  one  day  to  speak  in  the  Hall  of  Justice 
in  defence  of  the  Christians.  He  did  it  with  that  vivacity 
which  his  feeling  of  justice  and  his  youth  dictated,  and 
stood  as  witness  that  the  Christians  were  not  guilty  of  the 
vices  ascribed  to  them.  But  the  people  interrupted  the 
speaker  with  vehement  groans,  and  the  Proconsul,  who 
also  sat  in  the  hall,  asked  the  defender  if  he  himself  were 
a  Christian.  Yettius,  so  he  was  called,  answered  in  the 
affirmative ; — he  was  immediately  seized,  on  a  sign  from 
the  Proconsul,  and  sent  to  join  the  Christians  already  in 
prison.  On  this,  the  public  judicial  persecution  com- 
menced. The  following  days  the  Proconsul  ordered  all 
th.0  prisoners  to  be  led  bound  before  him.  He  addressed 
them  in  the  most  violent  language,  upon  the  horrible 
crimes  they  had  committed,  and  threatened  them  with 


IREN&US.  239 

the  most  dreadful  tortures,  if  they  did  not  abjure  Chris- 
tianity. When  the  executioner  placed  before  their  eyes 
the  favorite  instruments  of  torment,  and  explained  the 
use  of  them,  some  of  the  Christians  began  to  tremble 
and  grow  pale.  The  Proconsul  profiting  by  their  agita- 
tion, ordered  incense  to  be  placed  in  their  hands,  and, 
alas!  many  of  them  sacrificed  to  the  gods.  The  apos- 
tates were  ten.  This  act  filled  us  with  unspeakable 
grief.  We  suffered  a  further  humiliation  through  some 
slaves,  who,  with  their  Christian  owners,  had  entered  the 
church,  although  as  yet  they  were  not  thoroughly  in- 
structed in  the  doctrines.  Frightened  by  the  threatened 
punishments,  they  not  only  related  what  they  saw  in  the 
Christian  assemblies,  but  several  of  them  hoped  to  gain 
their  freedom  by  becoming  false  witnesses.  They  were 
therefore  not  ashamed  to  maintain  before  the  people,  that 
they  saw  with  their  own  eyes  how  we,  like  Thyestes,  eat 
the  flesh  of  children,  and  practised  vices  that  my  lips 
would  refuse  to  utter.  At  this  speech,  some  of  the  peo- 
ple applauded,  others  were  indignant,  and  also  those 
turned  against  us  who  up  to  that  time  had  some  faith  in 
our  holy  doctrine.  The  torture  was  next  applied  to 
many  of  the  prisoners  in  the  most  cruel  manner,  and 
not  alone  the  torture,  but  also  red-hot  irons  were  pressed 
down  upon  the  sufferers  in  great  brutality,  until  the 
bodies  were  no  longer  to  be  recognized.  Others  were 
put  into  the  stocks,  and  their  feet  stretched  till  the  sinews 
tore  asunder. 

"  So  passed  a  portion  of  the  month  of  May.  But 
more  sorrowfully  did  it  terminate.  I  must  now  speak 
of  the  death  of  an  old  man,  who  amply  fulfilled  the 


240  IRENA1US. 

hopes  of  his  great  master  Polycarp,  and  as  in  life,-  so  in 
death  he  trod  in  his  holy  footsteps.  Although  the  last 
events  greatly  affected  him,  still  a  youthful  vigor  seemed 
to  take  possession  of  his  aged  limbs.  This  was  but  lent 
to  him  that  he  might  leave  behind  him  a  remarkable 
example.  The  city  authorities  sent  armed  soldiers  for 
this  old  man,  and  had  him  brought  through  the  public 
streets  from  his  dwelling.  An  immense  concourse  of 
people,  children,  and  the  aged,  followed  with  ferocious 
cries,  amidst  curses  and  opprobrious  language.  When 
the  Proconsul  asked  who  was  the  God  of  the  Christians, 
he  answered : 

"  'You  will  know  God  when  you  are  worthy  of  it.' 
"  The  pagans  no  sooner  heard  this  reply,  than  they 
set  upon  the  aged  bishop  like  wild  beasts,  and  so  in- 
humanly treated  him,  that  he  sank  to  the  ground.  The 
Governor  then  saw  that  the  people  were  embittered,  and 
that  they  were  even  arrogating  to  themselves  the  office 
of  judge ;  he  therefore  ordered  Pothinus  to  be  carried 
back  to  prison.  There  we  saw  him  for  the  last  time. 
He  signed  us  with  the  sign  of  martyrdom,  by  pressing 
his  bleeding  lips  to  our  foreheads.  Two  days  later,  the 
church  of  Lyons  had  to  mourn  her  bishop  and  one  of 
her  principal  pillars.'1  At  these  words,  the  speaker 
thought  of  the  loss  he  had  himself  sustained  by  the 
death  of  his  beloved  and  venerated  friend.  All  present 
participated  in  his  grief,  and  loud  sobbing  was  heard  in 
the  assembly. 

"Amongst  the  prisoners,"  continued  he,  "were  some 
Roman  citizens,  who  claimed  protection  from  public 
contempt  by  privilege.  The  Proconsul  sent  the  infor- 


IRENJEUS.  241 

mation  to  Borne,  and  begged  a  command  to  retain  the 
citizens  as  well  as  the  other  prisoners.  "When  we  were 
informed  of  this,  our  hopes  were  raised,  for  we  trusted 
that  it  was  still  fresh  in  the  Emperor's  mind  in  what 
situation  his  whole  army  had  lately  found  themselves, 
and  how  the  prayers  of  the  Christian  legion  drew  down 
the  refreshing  rain  from  heaven  which  saved  them  from 
a  parching  death.  How  bitterly  did  the  Emperor's 
commands  deceive  us !  Marcus  Aurelius  decided  on 
the  death  of  each  one  that  persevered  in  the  confession 
of  Christ.  The  Proconsul  resolved  that  at  the  next 
public  sports,  at  which  a  great  multitude  was  expected 
to  assemble,  the  prisoners  should  be  brought  forth,  and 
that  the  Koman  citizens  were  to  be  beheaded,  but  that 
the  others  should  be  reserved  for  the  wild  beasts. 

"As  we  saw  at  this  investigation  those  also  appear 
who  had  already  declared  that  they  would  offer  sacri- 
fice to  the  gods,  our  hearts  beat  in  anxious  expectation. 
Quite  close  to  the  judge's  seat  we  observed  a  doctor  of 
Lyons,  Alexander  of  Phrygia,  who  was  most  beloved 
by  the  people.  His  presence  there  astonished  and  per- 
plexed us,  for  he  was  known  to  be  a  man  of  apostolic 
spirit.  While  the  apostates  were  questioned  anew,  if 
they  abided  by  their  former  declaration,  some  of  them 
unhesitatingly  acknowledged,  that  they  had  been  guilty 
of  great  injustice  by  their  apostasy,  and  were  now  firmly 
resolved  to  offer  up  their  lives  for  the  faith. 

"Alexander,  who  stood  opposite  to  them,  bowed  his 
head  in  a  friendly  manner,  and  showed  by  the  motion 
of  his  whole  body  how  ardently  he  wished  them  to  re- 
main firm  in  their  good  resolutions.  This  was  a  great 
21  Q 


242  IRENES  US. 

comfort  to  us,  and  but  few,  who  were  never  very  much 
in  earnest,  remained  apostates.  So  this  admirable  Alex- 
ander saved  many  from  destruction,  not  thinking  of  the 
danger  in  which  he  was  placing  himself.  The  people 
had  observed  him,  and  were  roused  almost  to  madness, 
and  the  Governor  putting  the  question  to  him  if  he 
were  a  Christian,  Alexander  answered  in  the  affirma- 
tive, and  immediately  his  sentence  was  pronounced. 
He  who  loses  his  life  in  this  manner  is  sure  to  find  it. 
"  On  the  following  day,  all  met  at  the  sports  in  the 
amphitheatre ;  alas !  it  was  a  sport  as  in  Nero's  time. 
Two  from  Asia  Minor  were  to  be  led  to  death,  Alex- 
ander, and  Attains  from  Pergamus,  who  was  formerly 
so  vehemently  persecuted.  As  he  was  placed  on  a  red- 
hot  iron  stool,  because  he  was  accused  of  being  a  canni- 
bal, he  turned  to  the  spectators  and  said  to  them  in  the 
Latin  language,  'Behold,  this  is  what  you  may  call 
consuming  men;  you  are  guilty  of  this  inhumanity, 
but  we  are  no  cannibals.'  Alexander  next  suffered. 
But  now,  dearest  brethren,  for  an  edifying  example  of 
two  young  persons ;  —  one  was  a  very  youthful  and 
beautiful  girl,  named  Blandina ;  she  was  a  slave,  and  of 
so  delicate  a  constitution,  that  she  caused  in  us  the 
greatest  anxiety;  and  yet  this  remarkable  servant  of 
God  had  from  the  earliest  dawn  till  late  in  the  evening 
defied  her  tormentors,  who  relieved  each  other  at  inter- 
vals, and  when  the  savages  sent  her  back  to  her  prison, 
she  spent  her  whole  time  in  attending  and  consoling  her 
companions  to  the  entire  forgetfulness  of  herself.  Her 
death  had  been  previously  decided  on,  but  a  remarkable 
circumstance  prevented  its  taking  place.  She  had  been 


IREN&US.  243 

even  tied  to  the  stake  in  the  middle  of  the  Arena,  to  be 
attacked  by  wild  beasts.  She  stood  there  with  out- 
stretched arms,  a  true  follower  of  her  crucified  Lord. 
At  one  moment  she  raised  her  eyes  to  heaven,  at  an- 
other she  fixed  them  on  the  panther  just  liberated  from 
its  cage.  The  beast  was  less  of  the  savage  than  the 
jailer  who  liberated  him,  for  the  moment  he  beheld  the 
maiden,  his  ferocious  nature  gave  way,  he  turned  sud- 
denly from  her,  and  crouchingly  retreated  to  his  cave. 
This  failing,  she  was  then  led,  together  with  Ponticus,  a 
youth  of  fifteen  years  of  age,  to  the  different  altars,  and 
they  were  desired  to  offer  incense.  But  still  Blandina 
thought  not  of  her  own  sufferings;  she  pressed  her 
chains  piously  to  her  bosom,  and  whispered  to  her 
youthful  companion,  smilingly,  words  of  comfort.  The 
youth  suffered  with  a  cheerful  mien  all  sorts  of  tor- 
ments, and  terminated  his  young  life  by  a  heroic  death. 
Now  Blandina  stood  alone ;  that  she  was  stronger  than 
all  the  instruments  of  torture  excited  the  people  to  the 
greatest  fury,  but  the  last  hour  struck  for  her  also.  She 
was  scourged,  next  torn  with  iron  hooks  till  her  entrails 
appeared ;  she  was  then  tied  in  a  net,  and  dragged  about 
by  a  wild  bull,  and  at  last  was  put  sitting  on  a  red-hot 
stool.  Finding  she  still  breathed,  her  sufferings  were 
terminated  by  the  sword ;  and  it  was  acknowledged  by 
the  Pagans  themselves,  that  no  woman  had  ever  been 
known  to  endure  such  torments  with  so  much  con- 
stancy. 

"Forty -eight  martyrs  thus  sacrificed  their  lives. 
Their  bodies  were  thrown  to  the  dogs,  their  bones 
burnt,  and  their  ashes  cast  into  the  Khone.  'Let  us 


244  IREN&US. 

see,'  said  the  heathens,  'whether  their  God  will  resusci- 
tate them  again.'  —  And  if  we  were  able,"  concluded 
Irenseus,  "to  cast  a  look  above  the  blue  vault  of  heaven, 
that  separates  us  from  our  happy  brethren,  we  should 
behold  on  the  head  of  each  a  sparkling  crown.  For  as 
often  as  a  persecution  breaks  out,  the  portals  of  Heaven 
open,  and  the  crowns  of  glory  descend  on  the  bleeding 
temples  of  the  well-tried  combatants." 

When  the  holy  man  had  ceased  speaking,  all  those 
present  cast  themselves  on  their  knees,  beseeching  the 
assistance  of  the  martyrs  to  obtain  strength,  if  God  so 
willed  them  to  suffer  a  similar  death;  but  they  were 
not  called  upon  to  suffer,  as  the  persecution  ceased  for  a 
time. 

This  sermon  made  an  indelible  impression  on  all 
present,  and  one  after  the  other  left  the  church  in  deep 
thought.  Lydia  waited  for  the  moment  that  Irenaeus 
would  cross  the  threshold  of  the  sanctuary.  Many 
years  had  passed  since  he  saw  her  bound  with  the 
girdle  of  his  martyred  master  at  Smyrna.  This  precious 
relic  she  carried  about  her,  and  suspecting  that  Irenseus 
would  have  a  death  similar  to  that  of  St.  Polycarp,  she 
resolved  to  renounce  all  claim  to  the  relic  and  present 
it  to  him,  who  by  his  talents  and  virtue  filled  so  high  a 
position. 

Irenaeus  gazed  at  her  inquiringly;  for  a  moment  he 
appeared  as  if  he  had  to  recall  bygone  days,  to  bring 
back  her  features  to  his  mind.  Suddenly  he  exclaimed, 
"  This  is  a  child  of  St.  Polycarp,  one  whom  I  last  saw 
on  the  ruins  of  Smyrna."  Lydia  was  silent.  Felicitas, 
who  stood  near  her,  spoke  for  her,  and  related  in  a  few 


IRENJEUS.  245 

words  her  sorrows  and  the  cause  of  her  journey  to 
Rome.  Lydia,  taking  courage,  addressed  him:  "Re- 
vered disciple  of  our  great  Bishop!  dare  I  venture  to 
offer,  you  a  remembrance  of  Smyrna?  Behold  the 
girdle  which  St.  Polycarp  took  off  before  he  ascended 
the  pile !  The  first  amongst  his  followers  should  pos- 
sess it,  and  when  the  last  hour  shall  strike  for  him, 
may  the  protecting  spirit  of  the  patron  saint  of  my  na- 
tive city  hover  round  him ! " 

Irenaeus  accepted  the  gift,  and  pressed  it  silently  to 
his  lips.  Thanking  Lydia  for  the  precious  and  unex- 
pected present,  he  bestowed  upon  her  and  Felicitas  his 
blessing,  with  a  fervent  hope  that  after  the  trials  of  this 
life  he  would  meet  them  in  the  world  to  come,  where 
separation  is  no  more. 
21* 


CHAPTER    XXIII. 
THE    INVALID. 

HAT  sadness  filled  the  house  of  Felicitas ! 
The  dearly  loved  emancipated  one  pre- 
pares to  return  to  Athens.  Her  hostess 
had  firmly  attached  herself  to  her  guest, 
because  she  had  shared  with  her  in  this 
life  the  same  dangers,  and  had  for  the 
future  the  same  hopes.  The  last  good 
wishes  were  exchanged,  and  Lydia  placed  the  casket 
before  her  which  contained  the  great  pearl ;  for,  accord- 
ing to  the  pious  custom  of  those  days,  she  commenced 
her  journey  accompanied  by  her  God.  Hark !  there  is 
suddenly  a  loud  knocking  at  the  gate,  and  Lydia  dis- 
tinctly hears  a  man's  voice.  He  is  asking,  in  an  excited 
tone,  if  the  young  Athenian  is  to  be  found  here,  or  if  she 
is  already  on  her  way  to  Greece. 

"  Well,  God  be  praised ! "  sai£  the  stranger,  and  en- 
tered  the   apartment.     "God   greet   you,"  said   he  to 
Lydia.     "Where  is  the  emancipated  slave  who  served 
the  rich  Metella.     I  have  something  to  impart  to  her." 
The  rough  manner  in  which  the  stranger  approached 

(246) 


THE  INVALID.  247 

her,  and,  on  the  other  hand,  the  look  of  astonishment 
that  his  features  expressed,  quite  confused  her.  Still 
it  appeared  to  Lydia  as  though  she  had  seen  the 
wounded  man  lately  in  one  of  the  assemblies.  "Are 
you,"  continued  he,  "the  enfranchised  of  an  Athenian 
lady,  who  had  a  son  named  Lucius,  a  blooming  son, 
who  died  fighting  against  the  Marcomanni?" 

Lydia  cast  a  trembling  look  at  Felicitas,  who  whispered 
to  her  in  the  Greek  language,  "Do  not  be  alarmed,  my 
dear  child ;  the  man  is  a  Christian ;  we  can  give  him  a 
trifle,  and  he  will  be  contented." 

"No,  no  I"  replied  the  inquirer,  smilingly;  "I  am  an 
overseer  in  the  baths  of  Timotheus,  and  am  an  invalid, 
but  through  the  benevolence  of  the  Emperor  and  some 
good  people,  I  manage  to  live.  My  arm  was  wounded 
by  the  arrow  of  a  marksman,  so  that  I  was  useless  for 
warlike  service.  How  gladly  would  I  engage  myself 
again  in  such  a  cause !  and  find  myself  face  to  face  with 
those  rebellious  people  of  the  Danube ! " 

"Perhaps  you  knew  the  son  of  Metella?"  inquired 
Lydia  hastily,  for  the  thought  struck  her  that  the  man 
could  probably  tell  her  something  of  Lucius. 

"Of  course  I  did!"  replied  the  invalid, — "of  courst 
I  knew  Lucius,  and  on  that  account  I  have  come  here 
to-day.  Alas!  alas!  he  died  too  soon." 

Felicitas  thought  that  the  visit  of  the  poor  invalid 
was  only  for  the  purpose  of  obtaining  a  small  gift,  on 
the  plea  of  his  having  known  Lucius ;  and  as  the  mo- 
ments were  precious  to  her,  she  sought  to  put  an  end  to 
the  interview  by  saying,  "Now,  good  man,  you  are  very 
poor,  and  perhaps  you  would  like  a  little  gift  from  Me- 
tella's  enfranchised." 


248  THE    INVALID. 

"By  no  means,"  answered  he.  "If  I  am  poor,  I  am 
contented,  and  I  comfort  myself  with  the  thought  that 
the  Kedeemer  of  the  world  Himself  belonged  to  the 
poor,  as  long  as  he  was  on  earth." 

"You  are  a  Christian  ?  "  said  Lydia. 

"0  yes! — and  one  of  those  who  fought  in  the  Legio 
Fulminatrix,  and  therefore  I  have  the  privilege  to  con- 
fess my  faith  everywhere  without  fear." 

"You  have  perhaps  spoken  to  Lucius?" 

"No  doubt  of  it:  we  belonged  to  the  same  Legion, 
and  were  under  one  commander.  The  son  of  Metella, 
equally  enthusiastic  in  virtue  as  in  the  honor  of  war, 
will  ever  be  remembered  by  us  all.  Oh,  I  see  him  still ! 
How,  after  a  battle  was  won,  he  rode  his  foaming  charger 
over  the  ice-clad  field  of  action,  and  so  courageously, 
that  his  heart  beat  strong  enough  to  burst  the  buckles 
of  his  coat  of  mail.  Then  flew  an  arrow  from  the  secret 
ambush,  that  struck  his  charger,  and  a  second  brought 
down  the  rider.  We  hastened  to  his  assistance.  We 
had  a  Christian  commander,  named  Cornelius ;  he  was, 
alas!  also  left  behind.  This  commander  loved  Lucius 
with  an  enthusiastic  affection,  and  met  him  often  during 
the  winter-quarters,  that  he  might  explain  the  truth  of 
Christianity  to  him. 

"Oh!  he  was  a  rare  youth.  How  often  he  gave  us  the 
commission,  that,  if  he  were  once  wounded,  to  carry  him 
off  the  field  and  baptize  him !  For  at  first  he  was  afraid 
to  receive  baptism,  as  he  did  not  consider  himself  suffi- 
ciently instructed." 

Lydia's  attention  was  riveted,  and  she  sent  a  secret 
sigh  to  Heaven  as  if  she  would  now,  as  she  had  often 
done  before,  pray  for  Lucius'  baptism. 


THE    INVALID.  249 

"Continue,"  said  she;  "you  speak  like  a  messenger 
from  Heaven." 

"Oh!  his  life  was  too  short!  the  arrow  did  its  work 
quicker  than  we  had  expected.  We  drew  it  out,  washed 
the  wound,  which  began  to  bleed,  and  the  youth  then 
awoke  as  if  from  a  sleep.  He  signed  to  us  with  half- 
closed  eyes,  and  exerted  himself  to  utter  a  few  words. 
I  did  not  understand  him,  and  had,  through  downright 
anxiety,  forgotten  his  last  wish.  At  length  one  of  my 
comrades  understood  him,  and  said  hurriedly,  'He  asks 
you  to  baptize  him ! '  Oh,  had  you  but  seen  the  seraphic 
smile  that  played  upon  his  dying  face,  when  he  found 
his  words  were  understood!  We  then  struck  his  spear 
deep  into  the  earth,  and  raised  him  against  it  on  his 
shield  in  a  reclining  position.  No  vessel  being  at  hand,  1 
took  off  my  helmet,  and  his  eye  anxiously  watched  my 
every  step,  as  I  went  in  search  of  water.  I  returned 
quickly  and  knelt  by  his  side ;  the  dying  youth  summoned 
up  all  his  sinking  strength  for  one  great  effort;  he  spoke 
distinctly:  'I  believe  in  Jesus  Christ,  the  Son  of  God, — 

0  baptize  me  in  his  name ! '     With  heavy  sobs  I  poured 
the  contents  of  my  helmet  upon  his  head,  and  baptized 
him,  jn  the  name  of  the  Father,  and  of  the  Son,  and  of 
the  Holy  Ghost.     He  smiled,  bent  his  head  in  thanks- 
giving, and  placed  his  hand  in  mine ;  he  then  fell  into 
his  agony,  and  seemed  by  the  movement  of  his  lips  to 
be  in  fervent  prayer.     He  opened  his  dying  eyes  once 
more,  and  motioned  that  he  had  something  still  to  say. 
One  of  my  comrades  placed  his  ear  to  Lucius'  lips  and 
heard  with  difficulty :  '  Love  to  my  dear  mother,  and  say 

1  died  a  Christian.'     These  were,  his  last  words ;  he  then 
closed  his  eyes  and  expired. 


250  THE    INVALID. 

"As  T  heard,  the  other  day,  that  an  emancipated  Chris- 
tian slave  was  here  from  Athens,  I  sought  you  out,  to  beg 
that  you  would  deliver  the  last  message  of  a  good  son 
to  his  mother."  The  poor  invalid  felt  deeply  affected ; 
the  remembrance  of  his  fellow-combatant,  whom  he  had 
accompanied  to  the  threshold  of  Heaven,  and  was  then 
obliged  to  bid  a  long  farewell,  grieved  him  intensely. 

"Merciful  God!"  ejaculated  Lydia, — "how?  Metella's 
son  one  of  the  Faithful? — Lucius  died  a  Christian?  — 
Baptized  on  the  field  of  battle  ? "  Her  bright  eyes 
sparkled  and  filled  with  tears. 

"Yes,  yes ;  tell  his  mother  that  she  had  a  good  and  brave 
son,  who  was  the  darling  of  the  whole  Legion,  and  tell 
her  also  that  this  son  died  a  disciple  of  Christ." 

Lydia  informed  the  invalid,  that  Metella  had  also  be- 
come a  Christian,  and  that  perhaps  he,  who  was  so  ten- 
derly loved  by  her,  had  petitioned  for  her.  "So  are  the 
ways  of  Him,"  continued  she,  "who  carries  the  destiny 
of  the  world  and  all  His  creatures  in  His  hands." 

The  brave  soldier  was  taking  leave  and  wishing  the 
traveller  a  favorable  journey,  when  Lydia  considered 
that  in  the  name  of  her  good  mistress  she  was  bound  to 
reward  the  bearer  of  such  joyful  tidings.  She  had 
scarcely  entertained  the  thought  a  moment,  when  she 
opened  the  golden  locket  that  she  had  suspended  from 
her  neck,  and  took  out  of  it  the  large  and  valuable  pearl, 
a  present  of  Metella's,  and  offered  it  to  the  invalid  in  the 
name  of  her  mistress.  He  refused  to  accept  a  reward 
for  a  service  done  to  a  dying  comrade,  but  as  Lydia  had 
assured  him  that  Metella  would  send  him  a  reward  from 
Athens,  if  he  did  not  accept  the  present  she  offered,  he 
then  received  the  generous  gift. 


THE    INVALID.  251 

At  such  unexpected  and  joyful  news,  Lydia  was 
stunned,  and  was  obliged,  as  soon  as  the  stranger  had 
departed,  to  reflect  a  little  and  convince  herself,  if  what 
she  had  just  heard  were  a  dream  or  a  reality.  Already 
she  placed  before  her  eyes  the  happiness  this  news  would 
afford  her  mistress,  and  if  her  departure  had  not  been 
fixed  for  that  day,  she  would  have  had  to  summon  all 
the  strength  of  her  will  to  conquer  the  desire  with 
which  she  longed  for  Athens.  She  hastened  with  Felic- 
itas  to  the  harbor  of  Tiberius.  The  late  intelligence 
made  her  separation  an  easy  one.  Both  promised  never 
to  loosen  the  firm  band  of  mutual  love,  and  wished  each 
other,  if  they  were  never  to  meet  again  on  earth,  a  happy 
meeting  in  "the  better  Land." 

And  now  farewell,  thou  precious  Eome !  Ever  mem- 
orable to  those  who  have  tarried  within  thy  walls,  and 
offered  up  their  prayers  at  the  tombs  of  thy  saints ! 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

THE   RETURN. 

HEEE  was  in  the  time  of  the  ancient  Greeks, 
a  much  approved  of  and  peculiar  sort  of 
ship,  of  remarkable  height  and  bulk,  to 
which  they  gave  the  name  of  Kerkyra, — from 
the  island  of  Korcyra,  where  they  were  origi- 
nally built.  Such  a  trading- vessel,  bearing  the 
name  of  Centaurus,  was  just  launched  in  the 
harbor  of  Ostia,  and  was  the  one  which  Lydia  had  de- 
cided on  for  her  return  to  Greece.  Rich  Romans  came 
alongside  in  their  gilded  barges  to  visit  this  triple-oared 
galley. 

At  the  call  of  the  Hortators,  the  rowers  take  their 
seats  and  beat  time  with  their  oars  to  the  flute-players 
on  deck. 

To  judge  by  the  dress  and  appearance,  there  were 
many  Asiatics  among  the  travellers.  Some  were  return- 
ing from  Gaul,  in  consequence  of  the  persecutions  there, 
to  their  homes  in  the  East.  They  had  not  words  to 
express  the  manner  in  which  the  Proconsul  of  that 
province  consented  to  the  most  abominable  requests  of 

(252) 


THE  RETURN.  253 

the  people,  and  this  principally  to  ingratiate  himself 
with  them. 

Some  of  them  carried  the  traces  of  martyrdom  on 
their  bodies,  like  so  many  seals  of  their  faith ;  and  as 
if  the  days  in  Lyons  had  given  them  no  previous  warn- 
ing, they  continued  in  the  practice  of  their  religion,  re- 
gardless of  the  judgment  of  the  heathens. 

Irenaeus  and  Hegesippus,  both  of  whom  were  jour- 
neying to  Smyrna,  were,  so  to  say,  the  spiritual  pillars 
around  which  the  faithful  heroes  crowded. 

The  learned  Hegesippus  is  not  unknown  in  the  le- 
gends of  the  saints,  although  his  works  are  not  extant. 
He  was  a  Jew  by  birth,  and  became  afterwards  a  mem- 
ber of  the  Church  in  Jerusalem.  He  had  travelled 
much,  and  had  acquainted  himself  thoroughly  with  the 
most  remarkable  events  of  church  history;  and  com- 
pleted, in  the  year  133,  a  history  of  the  Church  in  five 
volumes.  He  resided  in  Rome  till  the  year  177, — the 
same  year  in  which  the  persecution  took  place  at 
Lyons. 

Amongst  the  above-named  Asiatics  who  were  return- 
ing from  Gaul,  one  claims  our  particular  attention.  He 
sits  motionless  the  entire  day,  with  a  fixed  gaze  on  the 
blue  waters.  Now  and  then  he  raises  his  head  and  sighs 
deeply.  His  strained  arms,  and  the  scorched  flesh  on 
one  side  of  his  face,  clearly  showed  that  he  had  suffered 
the  torture.  "While  all  were  cheerful  and  even  gay  at 
meals,  this  gloomy  individual,  dressed  in  a  thin  over-all 
garment,  sat  eating  a  hard  biscuit  that  he  dipped  occasion- 
ally in  a  cup  of  wine.  He  touched  no  other  food  the  entire 
day.  Lydia  studied  this  man  for  some  time,  and  then 
22 


254  THE   RETURN. 

took  courage  to  address  him.  He  looked  at  her  frown- 
ingly,  listened  to  her  question,  then  turned  himself  to- 
wards the  sea,  and  gave  no  answer.  How  delighted  she 
would  have  been  to  help  him,  but  he  kept  a  sullen  dis- 
tance. Some  days  after,  she  made  a  second  attempt, 
asked  him  where  he  came  from,  and  who  he  was.  He 
answered  with  a  measured  voice,  "I  am  an  unhappy 
Christian;  leave  me  in  peace!" 

He  was  a  Christian,  and  in  the  last  persecution  in 
Gaul  he  denied  his  faith,  amidst  the  pains  of  the  rack ; 
and  as  he  was  threatened  with  still  greater  torments  if 
he  refused  to  reveal  the  secret  crimes  of  the  Christians, 
he,  against  his  conscience,  uttered  scandalous  lies  of 
crimes  which  he  said  they  had  committed  in  their  secret 
meetings.  At  this  acknowledgment  he  was  liberated ; 
he  took  to  flight,  and  waited  for  an  opportunity  to  leave 
the  province  for  ever,  and  return  to  Asia.  The  heathens 
who  were  in  the  ship,  said  his  name  was  Melissos ;  they 
knew  his  history,  and  some  of  them  had  seen  him  sacri- 
ficing to  the  gods.  Notwithstanding,  they  despised  his 
character  and  refused  to  associate  with  him.  Of  course 
the  Christians  had  a  still  poorer  opinion  of  him,  so  that 
the  unfortunate  man  was  proscribed  on  all  sides.  Lydia 
felt  the  deepest  commiseration  for  the  apostate.  As  she 
discovered  the  cause  of  his  melancholy,  she  addressed 
herself  to  Hegesippus,  who  usually  sat  on  the  stern  of 
the  vessel,  writing  down  the  thoughts  that  occurred  to 
him  during  the  voyage.  She  informed  him  of  the  sad 
state  of  Melissos,  and  begged  his  sympathy.  He  sought 
to  address  him,  spoke  words  of  comfort  to  him,  and  re- 
minded him,  that  even  the  prince  of  the  apostles  three 


THE   RETURN.  255 

times  denied  his  Master.  But  also  that  this  denial  Peter 
made  good,  by  his  redoubled  zeal  for  Christ,  and  by  his 
acknowledgment  to  his  Lord,  after  His  resurrection,  in 
the  presence  of  the  apostles  three  times,  to  love  Him 
more  than  the  rest.* 

Melissos  replied  in  a  hollow  voice,  "I  hope  to  be 
freed  from  the  wicked  spirits  by  a  baptism  in  the  sea," 
and  in  a  sullen  manner  turned  from  the  historian. 

There  was  a  Christian  youth  on  board,  who,  unmind- 
ful of  the  heathens  present,  went  through  his  religious 
duties  without  fear.  He  was  liked  by  all,  not  only  on 
account  of  his  wit,  but  also  for  his  enchanting  voice, 
with  which  he  knew  how  to  amuse  every  one  during 
the  long  voyage.  He  seemed  to  make  a  sad  impression 
on  Melissos,  and  to  awaken  in  him  many  remembrances 
of  the  past.  One  morning  the  youth  sat  in  the  scuttle 
and  began  to  sing  the  following,  whilst  the  sun  was 
rising : 

Night  flees  apace:  lo!  now  the  ruddy  dawn 
With  rising  sun,  breaks  sparkling  into  morn. 
O'er  the  blue  sea  shrill  winds  are  whistling  wild, 
Whilst  in  the  trim  bark  sails  a  lonely  child. 

Cheerful  the  boy  plies  well  the  ready  oar ; 
"I'll  turn  my  helm  for  port  on  yonder  shore, 
Where  golden  Spring  glows  warm,  and  gladsome  May 
Blooms  without  cease,  and  decks  the  glitt'ring  bay. 

"But  see !  what  nymph  starts  up,  and  from  the  rocks 
Trips  on  the  wave,  and  shakes  her  fragrant  locks  ? 
Enchanting  songs  my  soul  with  joy  so  move, 
That  my  young  heart  wellnigh  will  break  with  love." 

*  St.  John  xxi.  17. 


25G  THE    RETURN. 

The  heedless  boy,  though  love  and  music  mock, 
Salutes  the  sprite,  and  scudding  for  the  rock, 
Spreads  all  his  sails,  and  steers  with  eager  hand, — 
Then  joyous  sets  his  foot  on  Siren-land. 

Whilst  hush'd  he  bends  to  hear  the  warbling  strain, 
The  deadly  spell  steals  o'er  his  soul  amain, 
Holds  him  with  charms  bound  fast  to  magic  land, 
And  chains  with  joys  unblest  his  nerveless  hand. 

Rousing  at  last,  and  trembling  with  affright, 
He  sees  his  doom,  and  takes  to  rapid  flight,  — 
Seeks  for  his  little  bark,  but  seeks  in  vain  : 
The  bark  is  gone,  its  planks  bestrew  the  main! 

The  hapless  boy  sinks  sobbing  to  a  seat, 
Beneath  the  rocks  where  foaming  billows  beat, 
Casts  o'er  the  sea  his  eyes,  and  wails  uncheck'd, 
And  breaks  his  heart,  as  first  his  bark  was  wreck'd. 

Watch  then,  0  lonesome  youth !  and  guard  with  care, 
Lest  to  the  Siren's  song  thou  lend  an  ear, 
And  dire  enchantments  lure  and  love's  pretence, 
Thy  fragile  bark  to  wreck  —  thine  Innocence.* 

The  effect  of  this  song  on  Melissos  was  remarkable 
and  observed  by  all.  Night  came  on;  and  each  one  had 
retired  to  rest,  save  the  helmsman  and  the  Hortator,  who 
stood  on  his  elevation.  A  dark  figure  crept  along  the 
deck  till  it  reached  the  end  of  the  vessel,  and  began  to 
talk  aloud.  "  O  Thou  never-sleeping  Protector  of  the  uni- 
verse, lend  me  thine  ear!  Thou  listenest  to  the  chirping 
cricket  and  providest  for  it,  and  even  the  powerless  butter- 
fly, that  flutters  from  flower  to  flower,  is  an  object  of  thy 
tender  care.  Thou  beh oldest  me  also. —  I  am  the  butter- 

*  The  translator  is  indebted  to  the  Rev.  R.  Palmer,  O.S.D.,  for  putting  the 
above  into  proper  metre. 


THE    RETURN.  257 

fly,  that  should  have  ascended  to  yonder  Paradise  of  de- 
lights, but  whose  wings  have  been  burnt  off  under 
dreadful  torture;  now  I  am  but  a  worm — a  miserable 
worm !  I  have  lost  faith  and  hope,  the  wings  of  my 
soul!  Bereft  of  these,  I  now  crawl  a  pitiful  worm  on 
the  earth.  Man  mocks  me,  and  thy  Divinity  will  crush 
me.  Eternal  God,  dost  Thou  still  know  me  ?  I  am  an 
object  of  Thy  hatred,  and  all  heaven  must  detest  me ! 
For  whose  love  did  I  offer  incense  on  the  altars  of  the 
gods  in  whom  I  have  no  faith  ?  On  whom  did  I  think, 
and  who  held  me  back  in  the  moment  that  I  should  have 
gained  the  crown  ?  She  who  is  now  wandering  on  the 
Asiatic  shores,  sleeplessly  and  anxiously  watching  for 
the  sails  that  are  to  bring  to  her,  him  she  has  so  longed 
for !  She  is  the  Siren  that  took  my  heart  and  senses 
captive,  and  wrecked  my  bark  when  steering  for  the  land 
of  the  saints !  She  is  the  slender  Eoe  that  gnaws  at  the 
stem  of  my  faith,  and  bites  off  the  bark.  Oh  that  death 
had  pursued  her,  before  she  had  annihilated  my  virtue ! 
And  when  I  do  arrive,  she  will  no  longer  love,  but  curse 
the  cripple  and  the  atheist ! 

"O  sea,  O  sea,  thy  cool  embrace,  thy  melodious  song! 
Thy  liberating  baptism !  Dissolve  this  immortal  being 
called  soul,  and  spread  it  over  thy  immeasurable  waters. 
In  foaming  billows  will  I  then  beat  on  the  Asiatic  shores, 
kiss  her  feet,  and  cool  her  longing.  Dissolve  this  im- 
mortal being,  that  it  may  rise  on  high  over  thy  surface 
as  a  mist,  and,  as  storm-whipped  clouds  in  myriads  of 
drops,  fall  upon  the  locks  and  robes  of  my  complaining 
Syrinx  ! "  And  then  he  bent  himself  forward  lower  and 
lower,  and  vanished  in  an  instant. 
22*  R 


258  THE    RETURN. 

The  Hortator  near  the  ship's  lamp  was  looking  at  the 
apostate,  and  said  to  the  young  Christian  who  had  not 
yet  retired,  "Listen  to  the  Phrygian  fool !  He  is  declaim- 
ing a  monologue." 

'I  did  not  observe  him,"  replied  the  youth,  and  both 
looked  inquiringly  towards  the  front  rail,  where  he  had 
been  standing.  They  lost  sight  of  the  stranger  in  the 
darkness  of  the  night,  but  on  the  waters  they  heard  a 
gentle  splashing,  which  ceased  by  degrees. 

"  Help !  help ! "  cried  out  a  clear  voice  from  the  deck. 
"Melissos  has  thrown  himself  into  the  sea,"  and  almost 
in  the  same  moment,  the  supple  youth  sprang  into  the 
row-boat,  loosened  it  from  the  ship,  and  made  towards  the 
drowning  man.  By  ropes  thrown  to  the  youth  from 
above,  Melissos  was  drawn  up  just  as  he  was  on  the 
point  of  sinking.  He  lay .  in  the  bottom  of  the  boat, 
without  showing  the  slightest  sign  of  life.  His  pale 
features,  half  shrouded  in  his  dripping  hair,  clearly  por- 
trayed the  agony  of  mind  that  drove  him  to  the  deed. 
The  occurrence  caused  great  confusion.  They  looked 
upon  the  drowned  man  as  a  madman,  and  complained 
of  the  imprudence  of  allowing  him  his  liberty  among 
the  passengers.  Others  expressed  the  suspicion  that  the 
Christians,  who  did  not  seem  to  think  much  about  him, 
had  purposely  sacrificed  him. 

In  the  meantime,  they  left  him  lying  there,  and  re- 
turned again  to  rest.  The  deck  cleared,  and  all  restored 
to  its  former  quiet,  Lydia  came  forward  from  the  stern 
of  the  vessel,  with  uplifted  hands ;  she  cast  a  sorrowful 
look  around  her,  and  wept  and  prayed.  "Oh  if  I  had 
but  followed  the  dictates  of  my  heart !  Had  I  but  sacri- 


THE    RETURN.  259 

ficed  the  least  respect  to  the  greater,  you  would  not  now 
lie  a  victim  here  to  our  insensibility !  Alas,  why  did 
we  not  save  thee !  Almighty  Father,  if  still  a  spark  of 
life  be  in  him,  fan  it,  and  give  him  back  to  Thy  flock ! 
It  becomes  Thee  as  the  all  Holy  One  to  judge  the  sinner, 
but  it  becomes  us  to  look  upon  him  as  our  brother,  and 
to  love  him." 

The  moon  rose  clear,  and  the  waves,  as  if  naught  had 
happened,  danced  fondly  in  her  beams.  Flying  fish 
rose  from  the  dark  waters,  saluted  the  splashing  boat 
afld  the  sails  of  the  vessel,  then  fluttered  a  little  higher 
and  sank  again  to  their  watery  home. 

An  anxious  feeling  agitated  the  heart  of  Lydia.  Na- 
ture looked  so  peaceful,  the  body  so  pale,  and  the  deed 
so  dreadful.  Overwhelmed  with  anguish,  she  sank  upon 
her  cushion,  and  throwing  a  veil  over  her  face,  she  be- 
gan to  reflect  on  the  fate  of  Melissos.  Suddenly  a  ray 
of  hope  darted  -through  her  frame,  mild  as  the  morning- 
beam  that  kisses  off  the  dew  from  the  flower.  She  rose 
and  approached  the  body,  which  appeared  to  her  as  if 
its  posture  ha'd  changed.  "Good  Father!"  she  exclaims, 
"he  raises  himself;  he  sinks  his  head  upon  his  arm! 
Melissos,  you  return  again  to  life!" — "Yes,"  replied  he, 
after  a  pause,  and  looking  round, — "and  again  to  hope. 
No,  all  is  not  yet  lost:  I  feel  it  here," — placing  his 
hand  upon  his  breast. — "Eegenerated,  then,"  said  Lydia: 
"return  back  to  expiate  the  injustice  done." 

Melissos  recovered ;  his  despair  was  conquered  by  the 
language  of  sympathy,  and  the  care  bestowed  upon  him 
daily  by  the  passengers.  His  lost  peace  returned,  and 
he  sailed  towards  his  Asiatic  home  another  man,  and 


260  THE   RETURN. 

with  the  resolution,  there  to  be  received  again  into  the 
Communion  of  Saints. 

Two  months  had  passed,  and  the  longed-for  land  was 
still  at  a  distance.  A  cabin-boy  sits  above  on  the  mast, 
and  scans  the  broad  sea  in  the  direction  of  Achaia.  He 
looked  long  in  vain,  but  at  length  his  clear  silver  voice 
called  down  from  his  rocking  ship-cradle,  "  The  moun- 
tains of  Greece  are  visible ! "  All  hastened  to  the  fore- 
castle, to  convince  themselves  that  the  shores  were 
near.  In  the  greatest  haste  the  announcer  descended 
from  the  mast,  to  claim  a  reward  for  his  joyful  tidings. 
Although  land  was  distant,  the  pilot  looked  around  him 
unconcerned  for  he  had  now  another  sea-mark  by  which 
to  guide  his  ship;  as  long  as  he  was  on  the  high  seas, 
he  had  nothing  but  the  stars, — now  he  had  the  moun- 
tains, and  he  steered  courageously  by  them  towards 
Syros,  where  some  of  the  passengers  disembarked. 

Melissos  was  of  the  number.  On  taking  a  respectful 
leave  of  Lydia,  he,  with  tears,  expressed  his  gratitude 
for  her  sympathy,  and  made  a  firm  promise,  with  God's 
assistance,  to  be  again  of  the  "One  Fold.v  Those  who 
were  journeying  to  the  East  went  by  another  vessel,  and 
those  destined  for  Attica  continued  the  voyage  in  the 
Centaurus.  It  was  a  soft,  pleasant  morning,  such  as  we 
never  see  in  our  foggy  North,  when  the  ship  arrived  at 
Pira3us.  The  sun  was  still  slumbering  in  the  East,  and 
the  Hymettus  on  the  other  side  of  Athens  resembled  a 
gray  veil,  behind  which  the  rising  sun  was  still  con- 
cealed. At  last,  Aurora  waking,  drew  aside  "  the  cur- 
tain of  the  morn."  The  king  of  day  scatters  his  golden 
gifts  over  mountain,  sea,  and  plain,  and  sheds  a  new  life 
upon  the  earth. 


THE  RETURN.  261 

How  majestically  the  Centaurfis  neared  the  shore! 
the  morning  breeze  swelling  every  sail!  The  last  com- 
mands given  to  the  weary  crew  were  in  a  tone  that  said, 
"Fellow-laborers,  our  work  is  done!"  Lydia  was  al- 
most the  first  to  touch  the  land  and  greet  the  ruins  of 
the  once  great  arsenal,  and  the  walls  of  Cyclops,  de- 
stroyed by  Sulla,  which  united  Pirseus  with  Athens; 
and  now  she  pictured  to  herself  in  the  liveliest  colors, 
the  meeting  that  was  just  at  hand.  One  of  Metella's 
servants  was  to  be  se^n  for  some  days  on  the  heights  of 
the  Acropolis,  looking  anxiously  towards  the  harbor. 
At  length  the  mast  of  a  vessel  appeared  above  the  ho- 
rizon, and  by  degrees  showed  itself  in  full  sail,  steering 
towards  the  coast.  When  it  approached  near  enough, 
he  recognized  in  the  flags  and  pennants  the  expected 
ship.  Duranus  hurried  down  breathless,  to  announce 
the  tidings  to  his  mistress.  Metella  answered  with  a 
cry  of  delight,  and  hastened  to  the  threshold  of  the 
inner  gate  of  the  palace,  where  she  waited  impatiently 
the  arrival  of  her  much-loved  child.  Ophne  was  sent 
immediately  to  the  harbor,  and  Lydia  had  scarcely 
landed,  when  she  found  herself  in  the  embraces  of  her 
affectionate  friend,  who  overwhelmed  her  with  questions 
which  she  herself  answered,  and  imparted  a  volume  of 
news  relative  to  the  changes  that  had  occurred  in  her 
absence,  and  ended  by  declaring  that  there  was  one 
secret  she  was  most  impatient  to  tell  her,  but  she  dared 
not,  and  so  she  went  on,  talking  unceasingly  till  they 
reached  the  palace. 

Feeling  has  a  language  in  all  places  and  through  all 
ages,  and  this  language  expresses  itself  in  the  acts  of 


262  THE   RETURN. 

that  ardent  tenderness  wherewith  one  heart  unites  itself 
to  another.  When  Metella  and  Lydia  met,  they  lost  all 
power  of  utterance ;  Metella  stretched  out  her  arms,  and 
her  newly  found  child  sunk  nearly  senseless  into  her 
embrace.  After  a  few  moments,  both  retired  to  the 
oratory  to  pour  forth  their  gratitude  to  God.  Having 
spent  some  time  in  prayer,  Metella  motioned  Lydia  to 
follow  her  into  one  of  her  private  apartments. 

"  How  have  I  not  sighed  for  this  day  that  would  bring 
thee  back  to  Athens !  The  silent  valleys,  the  solitary 
groves,  the  purling  streams,  yes,  all  the  stars  in  the  blue 
vault  of  heaven,  can  witness  my  longing  for  thee !  The 
letters,  dear  child,  that  you  sent  me  from  Rome,  were  a 
weak  indemnity  for  your  own  dear  self,  and  still  they 
were  so  precious  to  me,  that  I  had  them  ever  near  me. 
What  an  interest  I  took  in  all  you  have  gone  through 
since  we  parted !  and  how  did  I  grieve  at  the  news  that 
you  could  not  find  your  mother ! " 

A  look  gave  Metella  to  understand  with  what  resigna- 
tion and  peace  of  soul  the  daughter  had  borne  the  loss 
of  her  parent. 

"My  child,"  continued  she,  "as  happy  as  is  the  return 
home,  so  must  those  you  have  left  behind  feel  your 
loss." 

"  I  have  no  one  now  on  this  earth  to  whom  I  belong," 
said  Lydia,  "  but  I  have  still  a  mistress  who,  I  am  cer- 
tain, for  the  future  will  accept  my  services,  and  who 
will  never  abandon  me." 

Metella  embraced  Lydia  tenderly.  "Not  mistress, 
not  lady,  not  friend :  there  is  another  name  that  stands 
higher  than  all  these — that  which  of  all  the  names  on 


THE   RETURN.  263 

earth  sounds  sweetest,  and  by  this  sweet  name  you  shall 
ever  call  me, — the  name  of  Mother! 

"What  I  offer  thee  now  is  not  a  thing  of  momentary 
affection ;  ever  since  I  lost  my  son,  I  have  thought  of 
how  I  could  hear  again  the  sweet  name  of  mother.  I 
have  chosen  you,  that  you  may  be  to  me  a  daughter,  a 
tenderly  beloved  daughter,  presented  to  me  by  God 
Himself.  I  have  always  called  thee  Lydia,  but  you 
received  another-  name,  far  more  beautiful,  in  baptism. 
Therefore  take  back  thy  name  —  Seraphica!  yes,  my 
only  daughter  must  be  Seraphica !  All  that  belongs  to 
me  in  future  belongs  to  thee,  and  as  thou  hast  a  daugh- 
ter's possession  of  my  heart,  so  shalt  thou  have  the 
possession  of  all  the  temporal  trifles  that  I  call  my  own. 
Long  did  the  court  of  Athens  hesitate  to  acknowledge 
you  as  my  heiress,  because  you  had  been  a  slave,  but  I 
proved  that  you  were  free-born,  and  never  purchased  in 
public  places ;  that  you  came  to  my  house  a  fugitive, 
and  found  shelter  there,  and  that  without  having  any 
right,  the  master  of  the  Smyrnian  vessel,  on  which  you 
sought  your  passage  to  Greece,  took  you  as  captive,  and 
sent  you  to  my  house.  All  is  now  arranged,  and  you  are 
acknowledged  as  my  adopted  child,  and  heir  to  all  I  pos- 
sess. 0  may  you  be  for  the  inhabitants  of  Athens  what  I 
should  like  to  have  been  for  them,  and  you  '11  be  a  pattern 
of  a  benevolent  Christian,  and  when  death  draws  near, 
you  will  look  upon  the  poor  of  our  city  as  your  children." 

The  deeply  affected  Lydia  composed  herself,  and  with- 
out being  asked,  pressed  a  kiss  on  Metella's  cheek  for 
the  first  time.  "My  faith,"  said  she,  "left  me  once  an 
orphan,  and  the  same  faith  has  again  given  me  a  mother 


2G4  THE    RETURN. 

I  shall  never  forget  that  it  was  thy  boundless  love  that 
liberated  the  slave,  and  from  an  enfranchised  raised  her 
to  be  thy  child.  And  now  I  can  no  longer  suppress  the 
joy  that  fills  my  overflowing  heart.  I  have  now  to  tell 
you  the  particulars  of  the  happy  death  of  your  son 
Lucius! — this  is  not  the  first  day  that  you  have  been  a 
mother  to  a  Christian  child." 

Metella  did  not  understand  what  the  words  signified, 
"You  had  a  Christian  child  before  you  yourself  thought 
of  being  one.  Yes,  your  son  reposed  in  the  bosom  of 
his  Redeemer  before  the  dawn  of  faith  enlightened  his 
mother's  heart.  O  remember  the  vision !  Thy  Lucius 
slumbered  at  the  feet  of  his  Redeemer." 

"My  son?     I  suspect!" — 

"Your  suspicions  are  happy  truths.  I  myself  spoke 
to  the  veteran  in  Eome,  who  baptized  him.  His  last 
words  were,  'I  believe  in  Jesus  Christ  the  Son  of  God, 
• — O  baptize  me  in  his  name;'  and  before  he  expired, 
'  Love  to  my  dear  mother,  and  say  that  her  son  Lucius 
died  a  Christian.' " 

Metella  was  astounded,  and  a  holy  awe  ran  through 
her  whole  frame.  She  rose  hastily  and  speechless,  seized 
Seraphica's  hand,  and  hastened  with  her  to  the  oratory. 
He  alone  who  searches  the  depths  of  the  heart  knows 
what  she  felt  when  pouring  forth  to  Him  the  effusions 
of  a  grateful  soul. 

What  a  double  joy  for  Metella !  God  had  already 
commenced  to  bestow  upon  her  "The  hundred-fold  in 
this  life."  She  had  now  one  child  an  advocate  in 
Heaven,  and  another  a  sweet  solace  to  her  on  earth. 
Her  life  was  beginning  to  her  anew,  but  0  how  changed ! 


THE    RETURN..  265 

The  pleasures  of  Chrysophora  were  very  different  from 
those  of  the  Christian  Metella.  In  former  years,  self 
was  her  first  consideration,  now  it  was  her  last, — so 
wonderfully  did  faith  transform  this  noble  soul,  that  she 
was  scarcely  to  be  recognized.  The  haughty  and  impe- 
rious bearing  was  changed  to  a  mild  and  modest  dignity. 
The  fiery  Metella  of  former  days  is  no  longer  heard  to 
speak  to  the  meanest  of  her  household  in  aught  but 
gentle  and  consoling  words.  She  spends  her  days  with 
her  adopted  child,  doing  good  to  all,  dispensing  the  tem- 
poral blessings  which  God  has  bestowed  upon  her,  like 
the  faithful  steward  of  a  liberal  Master. 

Lydia  was  delighted  beyond  measure  when  Metella 
told  her  that  Ophne  had  become  a  Christian,  and  that 
Duranus  was  then  a  catechumen ;  she  knew  immediately 
that  this  was  Ophne's  secret.  The  joy  of  all  the  domes- 
tics, on  the  return  of  Lydia,  knew  no  bounds,  particu- 
larly poor  little  Thrax,  to  whom  she  had  always  been 
most  kind. 

Metella  and  Lydia  spent  their  days  alternately  be- 
tween Elis,  Athens,  and  Eleusis,  in  each  of  which  places 
they  had  the  happiness  of  seeing  a  little  colony  of  Chris- 
tians rising  up  around  them.  Lydia  took  upon  her  the 
laborious  portion  of  their  charitable  labors,  and  the  sick 
and  needy  were  the  objects  of  her  most  anxious  solici- 
tude. 

The  poor  potter  was  no  longer  poor ;  he  had  been  re- 
moved with  his  now  dying  child  to  one  of  Metella's  out- 
dwellings  appropriated  to  the  male  portion  of  her 
domestics.  In  Lydia's  daily  visit  to  his  little  son,  who 
gradually  declined  after  the  operation  already  mentioned, 


266  THE    RETURN. 

poor  Hyllos  learned  to  believe — from  the  conversation 
she  had  with  Askanus,  who  loved  Lydia  dearly,  and  who 
always  entreated  her  to  tell  him  something  of  her  God 
— that  Jupiter  and  Minerva  .vere  no  gods,  and  therefore 
unable  to  help  him.  And  when  Askanus  became  thor- 
oughly instructed  in  the  duties  of  a  Christian,  and 
begged  to  be  of  the  same  religion  with  his  benefactress, 
his  father  added  an  earnest  petition  that  he  might  also 
have  the  same  happiness.  "Yes,  Hyllos,"  said  Lydia, 
"I  shall  be  delighted  to  see  you  one  of  the  true  fold,  but 
you  have  yet  to  be  instructed." 

"  Dear  Lady,  have  I  not  been  present  each  day  that 
you  talked  so  beautifully  to  my  son  ?  Old  Hyllos  has 
still  a  good  memory,  —  I  don't  forget  a  word  of  all 
you  have  said."  To  Lydia's  astonishment,  on  question- 
ing him,  she  found  him  thoroughly  prepared  to  receive 
baptism,  and  promised  that  his  name  should  be  added 
to  that  of  Askanus,  for  the  Bishop's  approval. 

After  having  ministered  to  the  temporal  comforts  of 
her  poor  invalid,  she  left  their  little  dwelling,  and  in 
crossing  the  court-yard,  on  her  way  to  the  palace,  she 
heard  loud  sobbing  behind  one  of  the  pillars,  and  won- 
dered to  see  little  Thrax  bathed  in  tears.  "  What  has 
happened,  Thrax  ?  "  Poor  Thrax  could  give  no  other 
answer  than,  "I'm  only  a  dwarf!  I'm  only  a  dwarf!" 
"A  caged  dwarf,  Thrax,  not  one  by  nature." — "Oh,  but 
I  was  bought  only  to  be  laughed  at!" — "No,  Thrax; 
you  were  sold  to  be  laughed  at,  but  purchased  by  a 
feeling  mistress,  to  be  treated  with  every  kindness. 
Your  dear  young  master,  Lucius,  was  always  your  best 
friend." 


THE    RETURN.  267 

"  Oh,  there  it  is!  there  it  is !  I  want  to  see  him  again, 
but  I  can't,  I  can't, — I  'm  only  a  dwarf!  Askanus  told 
me,  the  other  day,  that  if  he  were  good,  he  would  soon 
be  where  my  young  master  is,  and  that  is  where  I  want 
to  go;  but  I'm  only  a  dwarf,  I'm  only  a  dwarf!"  con- 
tinued he,  wringing  his  hands. 

Lydia  could  scarcely  conceal  her  emotion  at  the  faith- 
ful and  affectionate  remembrance  of  the  departed,  and 
found  great  difficulty  in  persuading  Thrax  that  his  di- 
minutive body  was  no  oostacle  to  his  being  one  day 
united  to  his  deceased  master.  His  countenance  began 
to  brighten  up  at  this  assurance,  and  he  asked  if  he 
tried  to  be  as  good  as  Askanus,  to  whom  he  had  become 
greatly  attached ;  might  he  not  soon  know  all  about  the 
happy  place  of  which  they  were  always  talking  ? 

Lydia  told  him  that  he  could  come  with  her  every 
day  to  visit  Askanus,  and  receive  instructions,  but  that 
the  God  of  the  Christians  was  to  be  loved  for  Himself, 
and  not  for  any  other  consideration. 

We  will  now  leave  Thrax  on  his  way  to  Christianity, 
and  reflect  on  how  faithfully  Seraphica  fulfilled  the 
duties  for  which  she  had  so  ardently  petitioned  when 
in  the  dungeon  at  Smyrna.  "Mother,  I  shall  not  die 
yet ;  I  have  besought  our  Lord  not  yet  to  call  me 
to  my  eternal  home.  I  wish  to  suffer,  not  to  die; 
I  burn  with  the  desire  of  showing  to  the  world,  in 
the  mirror  of  a  pure  life,  the  devotion  to  our  Ee- 
deemer,  and  to  relate  to  unbelievers  what  the  Son  of 
God  has  done  for  man.  Not  till  I  have  fulfilled  that 
mission,  shall  I  be  called  hence.  It  may  be  long  till 
then!  God  has  heard  my  prayer, — my  Guardian  Angel 
has  revealed  it  to  me ! " 


CHAPTER   XXV. 
THE    CONCLUSION. 

perseta  juvat,   sed   prsestat    tradita 


posse. 

It  is  beautiful  to  know  what  is  noble,  but 
still  more  beautiful  to  practise  it.  Thus  we 
see  in  a  slave,  weak  in  sex,  in  age,  and 
above  all  in  her  state  of  life,  to  what  an 
elevation  grace  can  raise  the  heart.  God 
has  chosen  the  weak  ones  of  the  world  to  confirm  the 
strong.*  Suppose  Lydia  had  not  been  rewarded  for  this 
triumph  of  virtue  by  any  temporal  gains,  by  honors  or 
dignities,  what  consequence  ? 

Earthly  splendor  and  exterior  recognitions  are  a  mere 
accidental  gift  of  the  interior  moral  greatness,  which  could 
neither  be  raised  nor  lessened  by  her. 

Notwithstanding,  it  thus  generally  happens  that  honor 
likes  to  attach  itself  to  virtue,  and  follows  it  as  though 
it  were  her  shadow. 

This  much-tried  girl  could  tell  what  wisdom  lies  in 
affliction.  She  would  never  have  reached  that  degree 


*  1  Cor.  i.  27. 


(268) 


THE    CONCLUSION.  269 

of  virtue,  had  she  not  passed  through  the  fiery  ordeal 
of  suffering.  If  virtue  is  to  appear  in  its  beauty,  she 
must  for  a  time  suffer  oppression.  The  martyrs  of  our 
holy  Church  would  never  have  died  so  resigned  and 
joyful,  if  unutterable  sorrows  had  not  led  them  through 
the  dark  labyrinths  of  their  lives  to  the  open  gates  of 
justice,  for  them  the  gates  of  triumph. 

Witness  Polycarp,  Justin,  Blandina,  Pothinus  of 
Lyons,  and  a  multitude  of  others.  It  is  in  fact  the  truly 
gifted  souls  which  God  visits,  purifies,  and  perfects. 
This  very  truth  Seneca  so  beautifully  explained  by  the 
words :  "  Miserable  he  who  was  never  miserable." 
There  is  not  an  anguish,  if  we  begin  with  the  blighted 
hopes  of  the  youthful  loving  heart,  down  to  that  of 
treachery,  torture,  and  the  laceration  of  a  despairing 
rnind,  which  will  not  there  find  a  complete  expression. 
Every  injustice  is  an  admonishing  voice  in  this  valley 
of  tears,  and  the  oftener  it  returns,  the  more  we  long 
for  our  departure,  which,  correctly  speaking,  is  our  way 
home.  But  a  friendship  with  death  is  the  greatest 
triumph  of  the  human  mind  over  the  terror  of  nature. 
How  magnificent  is  the  sun  surrounded  by  stormy 
clouds  when  sinking  to  the  west !  But  while  one  hemi- 
sphere admires  his  departing  beauty,  another,  at  the 
same  moment,  is  cheered  by  his  rising  splendor, —  thus 
sinking  and  rising  are  one  and  the  same. — With  man  it 
is  even  so ;  his  departure  from  this  world  is  a  hymn  of 
joy  to  Heaven  and  a  kiss  to  death,  which  eternity  gives 
to  the  approaching  soul  as  the  seal  of  an  indissoluble 
espousal.  Through  the  life  of  our  slave,  a  warm  zeal 
animated  her  for  the  salvation  of  souls.  She  had  the 
23* 


270  THE    CONCLUSION. 

lamp  of  faith  lighted  up  in  the  sun  of  revelation,  and 
carried  it  as  well  in  her  humble  dwelling  as  in  the  pal- 
ace of  the  wealthy.  The  love  by  which  it  was  animated 
conquered  all  obstacles.  "I  passed  by  thee,  and  saw 
thee,"  said  the  prophet,  "  and  behold,  thy  time  was  the 
time  of  lovers."*  She  wandered  on  the  thorny  way 
imprinted  with  the  footsteps  of  the  Lord,  and  when  she 
saw  a  loiterer,  either  to  the  right  or  to  the  left,  she 
called  to  him,  "  Thou  slow  of  heart,  why  delayest  thou  ? 
come  without  fear,  without  hesitation ;  be  not  timid  in 
treading  on  thorns,  which  fell  from  the  crown  of  your 
King."  Such  are  souls  as  God  wills  them,  not  those 
who  loiter  about  inactively,  counting  the  grains  of  sand. 
Oh  how  is  also,  in  our  day,  the  number  of  the  afflicted 
so  large,  and  our  love  so  small !  "  Ye  shall  be  fishers 
of  men,"  said  the  Lord  to  His  disciples,  and  He  Him- 
self went  before  them  as  a  divine  model.  For  He  once 
in  the  fulness  of  time  looked  down  from  the  highest 
Heavens  on  the  dark  ocean  of  the  universe,  where 
myriads  of  worlds  were  in  motion; — looking  also  on 
our  planet,  whose  inhabitants  were  sighing  after  light 
and  truth,  and  He  lowered  His  doctrine  in  the  net  of 
mercy,  and  drew  us  all  to  Him.  His  disciples  followed 
His  example.  The  Prince  of  the  Apostles,  while  hang- 
ing on  the  cross,  admonished  His  third  successor  Cletus : 
"Never  forget  to  preserve  your  own  soul,  in  saving  the 
souls  of  your  brethren."  The  same  duty  is  also  laid  on 
the  conscience  of  each  one  of  us.  Salvando  Salvdbimur. 
While  we  describe  the  bitter  trials  of  a  single  un- 
bloody martyr,  in  that  century  of  affliction,  another  pic 


THE    CONCLUSION.  271 

ture  of  incomparably  greater  martyrdom  presents  itself 
to  our  eyes, — the  bride  of  Jesus  Christ — the  holy 
Church.  Was  not  the  Church  herself  that  slave,  who 
already  in  her  earliest  youth  carried  the  chains  of 
slavery?  Unsheltered,  this  orphan  wandered  about, 
after  her  paternal  home,  Jerusalem,  was  laid  desolate, 
of  which  Smyrna's  destruction  was  a  mere  painting. 
As  a  fugitive  maiden,  this  same  bride  journeyed  across 
the  Mediterranean  Sea,  and  entered  into  the  service  of 
an  imperious,  sensual,  and  crowned  mistress,  rolling  in 
superfluous  prosperity :  and  the  name  of  this  mistress  is 
Rome.  She  served  there  nearly  three  hundred  years, 
during  constant  ill-treatment,  mockery,  and  persecution 
and  tortures  even  to  the  heart's  blood.  Who  imagined 
then,  that  from  this  obscurity,  and  after  such  contempt, 
so  powerful  a  life,  so  rich  in  influence,  would  unfold 
itself?  Then  came  the  time  in  which  this  proud  mis- 
tress submitted  to  be  taught  by  the  low  and  persecuted 
maiden, —  a  time  in  which  princes  abjured  their  tyranny 
and  absolute  will,  and  shared  with  the  slave  the  pos- 
sessions of  the  world,  and  both  named  themselves — 
Christian  Empire  and  Christian  Church.  This  remark- 
able day,  the  most  important  since  the  day  of  our  Re- 
demption, was  the  29th  of  October,  in  the  year  312. 
"It  appears  to  be  almost  a  general  law,"  said  an  ob- 
server of  the  people,  "that  this  prosperity  or  success  of 
things  is  connected  with  a  certain  obscurity."*  What 
a  coming  forth,  after  thiee  hundred  years  of  secrecy 
and  silence!  That  effect  was  not  accomplished  by 
physical  strength,  uot  by  the  sword,  but  by  a  power 

»  Lasanix'  Attempt  of  a  Philosophy  ; '  History.     128. 


272  THE    CONCLUSION. 

called  Christian  charity.  For  this  charity  is  of  all 
powers  the  greatest  on  earth,  and  what  she  fails  to  con- 
quer is  unconquerable. 

It  was  a  conflict  to  be,  or  not  to  be,  which  was  kept 
on  from  Nero's  time  to  that  of  Constantine.  After  the 
conquest,  the  last  of  which  was  gained  over  Maxentius 
on  the  Tiber,  he  passed  in  triumph  through  the  streets 
of  Rome,  and  with  him  brought  the  faith  victorious  to 
the  "  Eternal  City." 

A  lance-bearer  walked  before  the  chariot  of  the  con- 
queror, holding  on  high  the  bleeding  head  of  the  con- 
quered,— it  was  the  head  of  fallen  heathenism.  "Not 
captive  strangers,"  remarks  a  writer  of  that  time,  "swell 
the  triumph,  but  armies  of  vices  which  had  hitherto 
rilled  the  city,  conquered  crimes,  perfidy,  haughtiness, 
cruelty,  pride,  scorn,  voluptuousness  and  unlawful  de- 
sires,— all  these  were  bound  in  iron  chains.  But  still 
more  remarkable,  and  less  known  than  one  would  im* 
agine,  is  the  edict  which  Constantine  and  his  partner  in 
power,  Licinius,  appointed  to  be  proclaimed  in  Nico- 
media."  * 

"As  we  have  known  long  since,"  said  the  Imperators, 
"  that  freedom  in  religion  is  not  to  be  denied,  and  that 
the  practice  of  which  is  left  to  the  will  and  views  of 
each  one,  so  should  we  have  sooner  commanded  that, 
like  all  others,  the  Christians  should  be  free  to  hold 
their  religious  views. 

"But  as  this  permission  has  been  granted  on  many 
and  various  conditions,  so  it  has  perhaps  happened, 
that,  by  a  constrained  practice  of  their  religion,  many 
have  been  repulsed.  As  .we  therefore,  I  the  Emperor 


THE    CONCLUSION.  273 

Constantine,  and  I  the  Emperor  Licinius,  arrived  hap- 
pily together  in  Milan,  and  as  we  took  into  consideration 
all  that  concerned  the  security  of  the  public  welfare,  we 
believed  ourselves  obliged,  before  all  things  else,  first  to 
arrange  what  concerned  the  worship  of  the  Divinity,  so 
that  we  gave  to  the  Christians  the  same  freedom  as  to 
all  others,  to  follow  that  religion  which  they  considered 
best  suited  to  their  views  and  happiness ;  in  order  that, 
whoever  is  the  Divinity  in  Heaven,  that  He  may  be 
gracious  to  us  and  to  all  our  subjects.  All  former  pro- 
clamations contrary  to  this  are  to  be  null  and  void.  For 
it  is  clear  and  compatible  with  the  peace  of  our  time, 
that  each  one  should  have  the  choice  to  worship  what- 
ever divinity  he  will,  and  that  hereby  no  sort  of  re- 
ligious worship  is  to  be  excluded. 

"In  addition  to  this,  whatever  concerns  the  Christians 
in  particular,  we  have  found  it  good  to  determine,  that 
their  former  houses  of  assembly,  and  the  estates  they 
formerly  possessed,  which,  according  to  certain  edicts, 
fell  into  the  hands  of  the  law  or  otherwise,  shall  be  re- 
turned gratuitously,  and  if  the  present  possessors  ask 
for  compensation,  they  must  apply  for  it  to  the  imperial 
governor." 

Strangers  admire  to  the  present  day  the  ruins  of  the 
triumphal  arch  which  the  Senate  erected  to  the  "Libera- 
tor of  the  City ; "  and  who  can  behold  Constantino's  arch 
without  being  moved  at  the  remembrance  of  that  day ! 

But  now  there  shall  be  a  new  contemplation  of  things, 
a  lasting  reconciliation  made  between  religion  and  tem- 
poral power.  The  arm  of  the  Church  henceforward 
shall  be  free,  equal  to  that  of  the  State ;  both  arms  shall 
s 


274  THE    CONCLUSION, 

have  one  and  the  same  pulsation — the  spirit  of  the  Ee- 
deemer.  The  t\yo  highest  institutions  of  the  earth,  a 
Christian  Church,  and  a  Christian  State — these  two 
arms  belong  to  one  and  the  same  body,  Jesus  Christ. 
For  the  Messias  Himself  will  rule  the  world  for  the  fu- 
ture, with  one  hand,  through  the  Church,  in  distributing 
the  gifts  of  the  spirit ;  with  the  other,  through  the  state, 
caring  for  the  temporal  interests  of  the  people.  So  will 
He,  as  Master  of  the  world,  guide  His  children  to  the 
home  where  He  has  prepared  mansions  for  them.  The 
period  of  that  torturing  conflict,  in  which  Church  and 
State  seemed  to  bleed  to  death,  was  symbolically  ex- 
pressed in  the  figure  of  the  crucified  one.  His  two 
hands,  intended  to  bestow  blessings,  were  pierced,  and 
the  blood  flowed  down  from  the  cross  for  three  hours : 
He  who  wished  to  embrace  all  lovingly  was  crucified. 
The  Church  too,  which  was  intended  to  raise  man,  and 
lead  him  towards  his  high  destination,  was  galled  by 
the  State  for  a  period  of  three  hundred  years. 

After  the  Eesurrection,  our  Lord  appeared  to  His  dis- 
ciples, raised  His  hands,  showed  them  His  wounds,  and 
said,  Pax  Vobis ;  and  after  the  Church  and  State  had 
celebrated  their  long  hoped-for  resurrection,  they  had 
also  no  words  more  beautiful  to  proclaim  to  the  world, 
than  the  same  peaceful  salutation,  "Pax  Vobis" 

Peace  to  the  people,  by  the  right  that  had  its  origin  in 
the  Divine  will ;  and  peace  to  each  individual  through 
religion,  which  with  right  took  root  in  one  and  the  same 
soil — the  heart  of  Jesus. 

This  new  ordination  of  all  religious  and  civil  events 
was  first  through  the  merits  of  the  Son  of  God ;  to  Him 


THE    CONCLUSION.  275 

therefore  the  first  thanks  are  due.  But  after  Him,  these 
intrepid  combatants  claim  our  next  thanks, — those  who 
shrank  not  from  any  sacrifice  to  call  forth  the  new  state 
of  things.  How  many  tears,  how  many  sighs,  and  how 
much  blood  were  necessary  to  obtain  this  greatest  of  all 
good  gifts !  What  did  it  not  cause  to  save  this  precious 
inheritance  from  the  shipwreck  of  the  states,  from  the 
pestilential  breath  of  heresy, -and  from  the  torrents  of  so 
many  revolutions !  This  inheritance  has  passed  on  to 
the  present  century,  and  we  are  the  possessors  of  it. 
Thoughtless  is  he  who  has  never  taken  into  considera- 
tion at  what  price  it  has  been  purchased,  and  the  deepest 
contempt  falls  to  his  lot  who  sullies  the  treasure  of  faith 
with  the  rancor  of  mockery.  But  we  have  inherited  this 
treasure  unscathed,  to  deliver  it  over  to  our  descendants. 
The  light  of  our  eyes  will  be  soon  extinguished,  but 
when  our  graves  will  have  disappeared,  and  our  very 
names  will  have  faded  from  the  memory, — yes,  when 
the  temples  erected,  and  palaces  of  our  royal  cities,  fall 
to  ruins,  then  will  the  later  generations  still  reflect  on 
the  champions  of  the  first  century,  and  their  hearts  will 
beat  stronger  at  the  soul-stirring  thought,  "We  are  the 
descendants  of  Holy  Martyrs  1 " 


Date  Due 


PRINTED    IN    U.S.A. 


CAT.    NO.   24    161 


